From Where You Are
by dancerxforlifex3
Summary: Max feels somewhat broken ever since Fang moved. They're trying their hardest to stay in touch, but long-distance relationships are never easy. Neither is dealing with friend drama along with that Sequel to That's Just How It Is.
1. Since When Am I A Ticking Time Bomb?

**IT IS HERE.**

**I can't tell you how oddly relieved I am to finally put this up... I've been working on it for a while and rewrote these chapters at least five times each... so hopefully you like it even though it's probably FILLED with mistakes because of how many times I edited it.**

**I really, really hope I managed to PM everybody that asked me to. If I didn't, SO VERY SORRY :( If I can make it up to you somehow, tell me.**

**Disclaimer: Hi, lawyers! I don't own Maximum Ride.**

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><p>The cold bit at my cheeks as I walked to school with Ella. But that was seriously the last thing on my mind. Ella shouldn't have been the person walking to my right. Fang should be there. My whole world had shifted of its axis and nothing felt right.<p>

"And I'll repeat it again, because you don't seem to be listening to me, but you look so cute it's unreal." Ella's voice held that baby-talk quality that it took on whenever she talked about makeup, clothes, boys, Justin Bieber, all that crap.

I shook my head to clear it. "What are you talking about again?"

Ella sighed impatiently. "I wish you'd let me doll you up more often. You look cute."

I looked down. "Oh. Yeah." I'd been really out of it since Fang had moved, and my resolve had weakened. Previously, I'd totally put my foot down with Ella with anything that concerned dressing me up. If it was up to her, I'm sure she'd love to dress me everyday, like her life-size Barbie doll. She already had, as she put it, 'dolled me up.' It wasn't so drastic that she'd like, totally dressed me up. She'd just used some kind of weird gel stuff in my hair that made it all soft and shiny and curled it. I'd resisted her attempts to get me into something glittery and frilly from her closet, and I'd barely been able to fend her off when she was wielding that makeup brush of hers. I'm lucky I got out of the house without anything worse than her abusing my poor hair.

I would've put up a bigger fight if I'd cared that much. But honestly. . .I didn't. Not really. Not anymore, anyway. When your best friend/boyfriend moves, it's like you can barely find a reason to go to school or fake a smile. I'd still do it. So that no one would get worried that I was getting all depressed, and blah blah blah. I was fine. It was kind of a low point in my life at the moment, but I was fine. At least that was my cover story.

"Seriously, Max, you're not listening to a freaking _word_ I'm saying." Ella was annoyed now.

"No," I said emotionlessly. "I'm really not." I was _so over_ listening to other people's problems.

"Anyway," Ella huffed. "I've been thinking that I could like, set you up with this guy that I know, he's really cute and actually single. His name is Devin. I could get you guys on a date. . ." She trailed off with one look at my face.

"No thanks," I said tightly, acting as though I hadn't heard a single thing Ella had said. But honestly, she should've known that I wasn't going to be dating another guy any time soon. She'd also forgotten that technically, Fang and I had made it official that we were dating. Even if we were about a half hour apart, maybe more.

"Max, really, I think you should-"

"And I think you should stop telling me who I should date, alright?" I hated being really, truly mean to my sister, because she was mostly just cluelessly happy most of the time. Her lips were set into a hard line of dissatisfaction as she swiveled her head around to face forward again.

I wondered if that meant she was going to let it go.

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><p>It was my first Monday back at school without Fang. The newness of it was guarenteed to hit me like a slap in the face every time I was reminded of it. Like when I walked into Mrs. Jenner's class and saw the empty seat next to Megan. Megan was twirling her hair and looking kinda worried, like she was afraid that Fang wouldn't show up. When five minutes had passed and Fang still hadn't showed up, and Mrs. Jenner still hadn't started the lesson, Megan wandered across the room to my desk.<p>

"Hey, Max?" I never liked Megan. She was one of those girls that acted stupid because they thought guys found it cute.

I looked up and a curl tickled my shoulder. I pulled my hair out from where it'd gotten caught under my hoodie. I tended to pull my hood up a lot when I walked to school, and my hair constantly got stuck under my hoodie. "Mhm?"

"You're Fang's best friend, right?" The words seemed reluctant, like she didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah," I said warily.

"Do you know where he is?"

"He moved," I said sharply. She looked confused, and I hated to elaborate. "To another school, bimbo." I cocked my head menacingly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Whatever," she hissed, and returned to her seat.

Mrs. Jenner entered the room, dragging her usual stormy mood with her. I groaned internally, thinking about the mound of work she'd most likely assign. Whenever she was in a bad mood, she assigned as much work as she possibly could. Like she was getting her anger out on us. We'd also have to keep up with her pace for attendance; she tended to go fast on that when she was mad too.

"Quiet. I'm taking attendance," Mrs. Jenner barked. The class immediately hushed, and Mrs. Jenner started speeding through the list.

"Maximum," she snapped.

"Here," I said as quickly as I could. My voice sounded weird, but no one seemed to notice.

She continued with the next few names until she got to Fang. "Nicolas," she said, and tripped in her rhythm when she didn't get a 'here'. "Nicolas," she repeated, louder this time, as if she thought if she talked louder she'd get an answer from a boy that lived miles and miles away.

"He's not here," I said quietly. I raised my voice before I continued. "He moved on Thanksgiving." I barely got the words out before I was the subject of a lot of pitying glances. I glared back at them stonily before they had the decency to avert their gazes.

The other classes that I used to have with Fang continued in much of the same fashion. Teachers calling his name, not getting a response, me explaining, everyone looking at me as if I'd just announced my sister died over the weekend.

I planned to fume to Nudge during gym, but there was a little bit of a problem with that, considering she was Fang's sister and all. . .don't make me spell it out for you.

"Hey Max, where's Nudge?" some kid asked. I squinted at him and his name popped into my head. Steven. He was an awesome soccer player.

"I dunno, like, Orlando?" I glared at him and he looked taken aback. I felt kinda bad. He was a nice kid. Of course, I don't know if they actually moved to Orlando, it was just a reflex response. I knew that they hadn't left the state, I just didn't really know an exact location.

"Woah. Cool. Vacation?"

I swallowed, hoping to dislodge the lump in my throat. "No, she moved. So did Fang."

Steven's eyes widened. "Seriously? They didn't say anything to me."

"Well, the only people who really know are me and my lunch table," I hinted.

"Oh. Well I'm really sorry, Max, I know Fang was your best friend."

I raised my eyebrows. "Is," I said firmly. "Fang _is_ my best friend. Not was. Is." It seemed like a mantra, like I was trying to convince myself more than him.

He nodded. "Yeah. See you in geometry."

"Whatever," I muttered under my breath. I hate people sometimes.

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><p>My day continued in a similar pattern. Over and over. <em>Where's Fang? Where's Nudge? They moved? Oh. I'm sorry.<em>

The whole world could be sorry, but that wouldn't change anything.

It was finally lunch time, and I couldn't have been happier. Well, I could've been happier if Fang jetted over here in like seven point three seconds flat and spent the rest of the day with me, but I'm pretty sure you get my point, right?

I carried my tray and my usual stack of five cookies over to the lunch table. I carried my water bottle in the crook of my arm, and used my chin to balance the wavering cookie stack. I just barely made it to the table before it fell over. I just grabbed them from where they'd fallen around the table and tucked them into the corner of my tray.

"Mrs. Jenner keeps getting moodier," I muttered, cracking open my water bottle. It fizzed up and fell down the side of the bottle, soaking my garlic bread. "Great."

"Max, you got mineral water," Carolyn giggled, pointing at the label. Sure enough, it was that expensive fizzy crap.

"Mineral water SUCKS!" I yelled, getting up to chuck it in the trash. I sat back down and eyed Iggy's water bottle before swiping it and taking a huge air-gulp. Don't ask me how I air-gulped without spilling it all over my lap, because I don't know either.

We ate silently. It was mucho awkward. We just sat there, barely glancing at each other, and avoiding looking and Fang and Nudge's empty seats as if just looking at them would make us seize up and die.

I watched as Iggy reached for where his water bottle had been. His face contorted with confusion when he didn't immediately find it. He inconspicuously felt around a little for it, but he couldn't find it.

"Hey, Gasser?" Iggy asked, sounding miserable. I instantly felt bad for taking his water bottle. He _hated_ asking for help. He was really good with all aspects of being blind, but when someone rearranged something from what he was used to, he got confused.

"Yeah?" The Gasman was barely able to speak around the mac'n'cheese in his mouth. He tilted his head and let saliva dribble out of his mouth and onto the tray.

Tess shrieked like she'd seen a spider and shoved her chair away from him. "_Ew!_ Don't you have any sense of pride or good manners?"

"No."

"Clearly." I rolled my eyes. Everyone glanced at me like they were scared I'd blow up at any second. And that annoyed me, but I didn't dare say anything.

"So, you were saaaaaying?" Gazzy drawled with exaggerated impatience, turning his attention back to Iggy.

Iggy's pale fingers continued to routinely sweep across the table, as if he expected the water bottle to just show up. "Where'd my water bottle go?"

Gazzy looked at me. "It's in Max's hands."

Iggy's face turned in my general direction. "Yo, water swiping: not cool."

I slipped the bottle into his outstretched palm. "Really? It was cool for me." There wasn't that much of a smile on my lips, but it was in my voice.

He shook the water bottle, holding it up to his ear. "Geez, how much did you drink? Like, the whole thing?"

"I'd say maybe I left you like, four sevenths of the bottle."

"Look who's getting all mathematic," JJ said wryly. I hated math, so that was a joke, if you didn't already pick up on that, people.

"Yeah, I'm sure Mr. Lowell would love that I can calculate things at a second-grade level," I said back. Everyone suddenly froze, staring at me. I glanced around the table in annoyance. They'd thought that I was snapping at JJ, instead of just teasingly responding to the joke. God, when would they stop treating me like one of Iggy's home-made bombs?

Carolyn sensed my annoyance and changed the subject. "So, Mrs. Jenner gave me an F on an assignment today because I wrote on both sides of the paper." She rolled her eyes.

Everyone at the table, myself included, seemed relieved with the subject shift. "Like, you wrote on the front and back of a piece of paper and she failed you?" Gazzy asked.

She nodded solemnly. "Yep. She's a megabitch."

I giggled. "That's a word?"

"Hell yes." Carolyn grinned, and I felt a huge swell of appreciation for my friend. She was the only one that really knew that treating me with the utmost care wasn't the way to go with me. They were just being careful, sure, but it wasn't like they were swinging Fang's absence in front of my face like a Hershey's bar. If they did, I probably would explode.

There was a tiny awkward silence at the table then. Gazzy was looking around mischieviously, and I realized later that I probably should've pointed out the look on his face sooner, because it almost definitely meant something. . .unpleasant was going to happen.

"I'M SEXY AND I KNOOOOOOOW IIIIIIIIT," he suddenly burped at top volume. We all stared at him, apalled, while neighboring tables muttered and laughed.

Iggy clapped him on the back. "Way to make it come out the other end!"

Tess fanned the air. "That's just gross. I can actually smell that stuff that the cafeteria calls mac'n'cheese." She indicated the Gasman's tray.

He sniffed the air and then punched it. "Yes! It smells better than McDonalds!"

"I wouldn't say _that_," I said, wrinkling my nose. Another round of concerned glances were shot my way.

And then the crap hit the fan.

I stood up, abruptly upending my chair. "You guys have been treating me like I'm going to explode _all day_. I'm not going to break just 'cause Fang's in another school right now. Hell, you guys are best friends with Fang too, right? Why aren't you treating each other like ticking time bombs?" I was met with utter silence.

Before I could seriously start regretting that, I bolted.

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><p>Fang POV<p>

The halls of the school were intimidating. There were at least ten times more students at Jefferson High than at my old school. (**A/N: Not a real school!**)

And I was pretty sure I was hallucinating as I squeezed through the streams of students. I was pretty sure I saw Max a couple times. But I didn't. She wasn't there. She probably in Mrs. Jenner's class by now, and (I never thought I'd say this) but I'd give anything to be in that class with her at that moment.

Nudge's hand was on my arm. It felt like she was cutting off the blood flow. But I didn't dare complain - if she got lost she'd be dead, as the lost new girl.

"I think this is your classroom." I peeked at her classroom and pointed at a simple door with the standard notices posted in the window. Notices for joining sports, clubs, stuff like that. "Good luck. Don't talk too much and scare people off, okay? If they ask you questions, answer like a normal person. Don't tell people your life story unless they ask for it." I raised my eyebrows at her.

She touched her finger to her temple mockingly. "Got it."

"Okay. Go." I lightly shoved her towards the classroom and then took off to look for my own classroom.

I intercepted a couple curious glances on the way to my homeroom, and really wished people would stop looking at me. I didn't deal with attention well. I wasn't used to being the new guy. I didn't want to be a spectacle, and I didn't want to answer a thousand questions about what my name was and where I came from and what color my socks were (black, if you're wondering).

"Oh my God, Fang!" a voice shrieked.

I looked around, totally confused. If I was hallucinating again. . .ugh.

"Fang!"

I turned and found myself looking straight at a familiar face. . .

Halley.

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><p><strong>Ok, so you can kill me because <em>yes<em>, the first chapter kind of does suck mucho and _yes_, I'll try to have the second one up as quickly as possible. I'm open to suggestions, too. And kinda going batshit crazy because I was _so sure_ I wrote this one part and then when I totally scoured everything I'd written for it, it was gone.**

**Guys, I can't watch Wizards of Waverly place like I did when I was ten because I keep thinking that Max is the girl :S And they're like "where's Max?" And I'm like SHE'S STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, BIMBO.** **But then I realize her name is Alex and the guy is Max.**

**Alright then. Much love.**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	2. Misery

**Shorter than the last, but hopefully still just as good to you.**

**Again, my apologies to the people I didn't PM. Some I just couldn't find when I looked up your pennames, some had PMing disabled, and some of you had me on author alert and got there before me. So once again, sorry!**

**Another problem to adress: people have no idea who Halley is. She's not mentioned in this chapter, so I'll give you a little while to do your research: go back to That's Just How It Is, and reread (or skim), chapters 33, 34, & 38. She's there. I don't blame you for forgetting; I was rereading a few chapters the other day out of sheer boredom and thought about how much fun it would be to add her in and screw stuff up and then patch it up again.**

**I was at dance, and we were goofing off and making up moves, and my one friend came up with this move that looks like you're shampooing your hair. And my dance teacher goes 'that looks like the double dream hands guy.' If you've never seen the double dream hands guy, go on youtube and look it up now.**

**Who wants to discuss season 2 of Dance Moms? :D**

**My cat hates my dog soo much.**

**Disclaimer: I own Maximum Ride about as much as I own diamond-studded jazz shoes. (I _wish_!)**

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><p>FangPOV<p>

I waited, leaning against my locker. Nudge was supposed to meet me here. She was already three minutes late, but knowing her, she was talking to the flocks of new friends she'd already made. Typical Nudge.

When my phone vibrated in my pocket, my heart leapt, as little as I'd like to admit that. I didn't even need to check the caller ID. I slipped it carefully out of my pocket and held it up to my ear. "Hey."

She sighed. "It was a long day."

"For me, too. Well, actually, it's still a long day."

Three girls stopped in front of my locker. They looked nice enough. They weren't dressed all slutty. "One sec," I muttered into the phone, and lowered it so that the microphone was pressed against my shoulder. "Uh, hi?" I said as they just stood there smiling. "Can I help you?"

The one all the way to the left, the one with the really long blond hair, smiled and put her hand on my shoulder. "You're the new kid, Nick, right?"

"Sure." I didn't wanna be impolite, but I'd been polite to just about everyone today. "I'm kind of in the middle of an important call."

The plumper auburn-haired girl raised her eyebrows. "How important can it be? You're in high school. Live a little."

I glared impassively at her. "It's my girlfriend." I held the phone out in the blond's direction. "You wanna be the one to tell her how you won't stop flirting with me?"

The one girl who hadn't spoken yet piped up. "Just let it go, guys," she said. "Quit bothering him." She nodded quickly to me and herded her friends away.

I was grateful for that.

When I raised the phone to my ear, Max was blurting out streams of insults. Apparently, she'd heard every word. "Okay, okay," I said. She didn't stop talking. She seemed to get even more angry as her insults got more colorful. "Max, it's okay, calm down! They're gone now."

I could almost hear her scowling. "Tramps," she muttered for good measure.

Despite the fact that she was totally in a dark mood right now, I couldn't help but smile. Just Max's general antics and quirks were so familiar that I couldn't help it.

She paused. "Sorry. I'm totally making your day worse."

"Strangely. . .you're making it better."

Max laughed. "Yeah, sure. So how is it at your new school?"

I lifted one shoulder. "It's fi-"

"The truth, please."

"I hate it," I blurted. It was so freaking disturbing how well Max knew me. How she already knew I was going to lie about it before she even heard the first two words out of my mouth. It made me miss her even more, with an ache that I'd gotten to know too well over Thanksgiving break.

"Are they all mean assholes?" Her tone was harder.

"No. It's just all so overcrowded in this school that teachers can barely give you the time of day and this place is _infested_ with sluts."

"Like, Lissa-scale bad?"

"Worse."

There was a short silence on the other hand. "That's possible?"

"Yeah," I said glumly. "Before today, I wouldn't have believed it either."

"I still don't," Max said with a short, dry chuckle. "I'll have to see it to believe it. Maybe I'll transfer and we can keep each other sane."

Despite the impossibility factor, her words painted a happier picture in my head, where Max was there everyday to make me smile. I hadn't smiled once today. If Max had been there flipping everyone off with a million comments that were designed to make them feel insignificant, I would've smiled through the whole day. But for now, smiling became the way it used to be before I met Max; a rarity. Something that I only did when I heard an impossibly funny joke or if my mom announced my cousin was getting married. Few and far in between.

"I still have to walk home," I grumbled. "At least until my mom decides to either drive me to and from school, or get me on a bus." I shook my head. "It's not that far, but seriously, _come on_."

"I hear ya." She sighed. "I pissed everyone off at lunch today."

Uh oh. "What happened? You can vent."

And boy, did she vent. "Well, I walked into lunch, and everyone was trying to act all normal, but no one could so much as look at your chair or Nudge's without practically tearing up. It was just awful. And then we kind of started talking like we usually did, but every time I said something, they looked at me like they were making sure I wasn't gonna shoot them. And then after a while I kinda just exploded and yelled at them and walked out of the cafeteria. And none of them would talk to me for the rest of the day."

"Sounds bad."

"It _is_," she groaned. "I feel terrible."

"FANGHIOMGHOWWASYOURDAY!"

I sighed. "Hi, Nudge."

"My day was so awesome," she babbled. "I got soo many compliments on my purse and my hair and my bracelet. And my shirt, too. I have like a million new friends. But like my best friend now, her name is Molly. She's soo nice and soo pretty. You have to meet her sometime. You'd love her. And I hardly got any homework. Not cause it was my first day but just cause the teachers didn't really give out a lot of homework." She paused for breath and smiled at me so brightly I wondered what she'd had to eat this morning.

"Ah," I said. "You can tell me all about it on the way home." I pressed my mouth closer to the mouthpiece on my phone. "Help."

Max laughed. I could practically picture her eyes instantly warming as she laughed. "Hey, you're on your own for that one. Tell Nudge we miss her though, kay?"

"Sure. I'll talk to you later." I paused. "I miss you a ton."

"I miss you too," she said, her voice thicker, like she was holding back tears. "I'll tell you how things. . .work out. With everyone else."

"You do that." I swallowed hard. "Bye."

"Bye."

Nudge prattled in my ear all the way home. I was barely listening, too busy imagining myself running all the way to Max's house and just sitting there, silently holding her hand. I would've done anything to be able to do just that.

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><p>Max POV<p>

_Slam!_

Horrible. Try again, Max.

I put my hands out in front of me and pictured it again. I threw myself forward and followed every direction my instructor had given me. I kept my whole body locked tight, not allowing myself to flail and land on my head.

Yet once again, I landed on my butt on the matt with a loud sound that echoed through the whole place.

Deep breathing. You'll get it. In time. Maybe move on to something simpler, now?

That was exactly what I needed. Taking deep, even breaths, I leaned backwards until my hands connected with the mat. I adjusted into the backbend as well as I could, then lifted one leg off the mat and pushed myself backwards. I smiled to myself. Back walkovers were a simple trick to master. Unlike the aerial front handspring I'd been attempting all afternoon.

I groaned and sat down on the mat. I stretched into a middle split; it was my best 'I'm going to sit still and think' position. I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the mat, and allowed my mind to wander.

Without really meaning to, I'd allowed myself to get sucked into winter cheerleading, _again_. What can I say? It was an impulse. Ever since Fang had left, I'd seemed to have big, gaping spaces after school that ached to be filled. I needed something to take up my time. Something to distract myself. Something to make me forget that the one person I really, really needed around was miles away. I'd thrown myself back into gymnastics again, with a vengeance. I'd even stretched to the limit and started taking acro classes. Ella had agreed to start acro with me. The teacher already loved me; she said that I was a natural acrobat.

My mom had been worrying that my grades would slide with this big gray cloud hanging over my life now. She hadn't directly mentioned it to me; I'd heard her talking to my aunt on the phone about it. So I'd gone and struggled to perfect my grades, as well. That wasn't such a stretch, anymore; Fang wasn't in my classes to distract me.

I was constantly going, going, going, 24/7, and fell into bed every night grateful that the day was over, and dreading the next. Every morning, it was the same thing. Wake up. Eat breakfast. Barely fend off Ella and her ridiculous notion that I'm still in second grade and still need someone to lay out my clothes for me. Go to school. Work on grades. Go to cheerleading practice. Go to acro. Squeeze in gymnastics. There was always that tiny little voice in the back of my head, pushing me. Come on, Max! Just three more hours and you can sleep! I promise! Wait, no! You have homework. Push yourself to the limit! Do it! Do it for meee!

It was so annoying.

But what alternative was there, really? Wallow in sadness and regret now that Fang was gone? Not likely. I had to pick myself up before I had a chance to even slide down into that stupidly dangeous ditch of depression.

Woah. Nice alliteration. I've been paying more attention in writing than I thought.

Plus, now my friends were incredibly pissed at me. I'd tried countless times to get their attention during the various classes I had with them, but they studiously ignored me. I was hoping to make it up to them tomorrow at lunch, but I wasn't totally sure it'd work. I was really sorry I'd yelled at them like that, though.

With a sigh, I pushed myself up and ran for the beam. Cartwheels on this beam were easier now, and I was advancing to harder things on the beam. Like, back walkovers on the beam. And aerials. It was a bunch easier on a regular, sturdy mat, though. I was pretty good at it, by now.

I quickly placed my hands on the beam and forced my folded legs to straighten. I locked my arms and knees, straightening my back into a handstand. This was hell on my arms, but a good distraction. What I needed to do to keep myself on track.

The slam of the door was the one thing that broke my concentration and caused me to fall. My mind flashed back to when Fang had snapped my concentration during a handstand once, and I'd fallen in quite a similar way. Except that time, I didn't slam my shoulder down on the beam when I fell.

"Ouch!" I howled. I sat up and rolled my shoulder a couple times. Sore, but I'd live.

"Sorry, Max," Raven muttered. Raven was the gymnastics instructor; she hung around here and helped people out most of the time. I'd learned a bunch of stuff from her already.

"It's okay. You just startled me." I sat with my back against the beam.

She set down her jacket and a bunch of folders and papers. "How's your press handstand?"

"Good." I hopped up again and placed my hands firmly on the beam. I pushed off the ground a little with my feet and held myself there for a second with my legs straight out, my hands supporting me. I slowly lifted my legs into a full handstand, then back down again. I hopped off with a little grin.

"Cool," Raven said, bobbing her head lightly. The pile of hair on top of her head slid crazily back and forth. "Tumbling?"

I grinned. "Tumbling."

Tumbling had become a huge stress reliever for me. Tumbling was seriously everything I needed to just calm down and clear my head. I just went with whatever my body wanted to do, and kept going and going and going until I reached the end of the huge room.

I wished I could just tumble all the way to the cafeteria the next day. I was seriously stressed, and kept reaching up to my shoulder to tug at my hair like I always did. But Ella had _insisted_ on fishtailing my hair that morning, so now my hair hung in a perfect fishtail braid down my back. I pulled it over my shoulder, and tried to resist yanking on it. I had to appear perfectly calm and collected.

When I sat down, no one looked at me. Everyone's heads were turned down, staring at their food while they ate like it was the most interesting thing in the world. JJ's head was so close to her plate, she was on the verge of a pizza grease facial.

I huffed out a long sigh. "Look, guys, I know you're pissed, and you have every right to be. But I'm really sorry. Really, really sorry. I acted like a total bitch." The words stung in my mouth. I was so used to holding a grudge, waiting for others to be the first to apologize. But I was glad I'd said it anyway.

JJ was the first to look up. Her inability to hold a grudge was her weakness. "Oh, I'm sorry too, Max!" she exclaimed. "I'd just rather forget the whole thing happened."

Iggy snorted. "I'm not really pissed. Guys don't hold grudges. It's all cool." Gaz nodded his agreement.

Carolyn and Tess remained silent.

"Guys?" I lightly nudged Carolyn with my elbow. She absently scratched at her arm but otherwise totally didn't react. "I'm really, really sorry. What else do I have to do to make it up to you?"

"Whatever," Carolyn said. Her mouth was a tight line. "It's fine. I'm not mad." Her voice faltered.

I sighed. "Don't lie to me."

"I'mnotlying," she insisted, too quickly.

"I forgive you, Max," Tess said quietly.

I smiled sincerely at her. "Thanks, Tess." I looked back at Carolyn.

"What?" she demanded. "I'm not lying. It's fine."

"But it's really obvious that - "

I didn't even get half the sentence out before Carolyn's eyes filled with tears, effectively cutting me off. "Are you okay?" I asked, giving her a weird look. She turned her head and attempted to wipe the tears out of her eyes, but they were coming too quickly, and she stood up, looking around for the nearest exit. I was close on her heels as she burst into the bathroom.

"Carolyn, did I really hurt your feelings that much?" I asked quietly. She took a travel-size pack of tissues from her purse and started dabbing at her dripping makeup.

"No," she said raggedly. "It's not anything you did. I've been having an off day, that's all."

I quietly took a step closer to her and awkwardly hugged her. "Anything in particular bothering you?" I asked her. We were both turned toward the mirror now, staring at each other's reflections as we spoke.

"Kinda," she whispered.

"You can tell me," I reminded her.

She sniffed before she broke like a weak dam and spilled everything. "My mom took my brother to a rehabilitation center last night because she thinks he's suicidal."

I blinked in astonishment. Carolyn had never mentioned her brother being suicidal, or depressed, or anything like that. According to her, he was constantly smiling and always ready with a cheesy knock-knock joke. She didn't have to voice it for me to know that her brother was her best friend, the person who got her through the rough spots in life.

"I'm really sorry, Car," I said softly. "That really stinks, big time."

She nodded. "I know. He doesn't have to stay overnight, but he's gonna be there everyday, from ten to four."

"That's really hard," I said hesitantly. "But you gotta know that we're always here for you, kay?"

Carolyn nodded again. "Thanks, Max."

"No problem."

* * *

><p><strong>My life lately has to be the biggest stress-fest imaginable. I so wish I could tell someone but they're not my secrets, and I feel like I'm everyone's vault, and I just keep listening to everyone's problems all day, and no one stops to listen to me. -_- It's exausting.<strong>

**Alright, enough of the pity party. Must ask:  
>A) Who's watching Pretty Little Liars?<br>B) Who's watching Dance Moms?  
>C) Who's still watching Glee?<br>I'm on the verge of calling Fox to complain about the quality of Glee. This. Season. Sucks.**

**I'm sorry if the next few chapters are kinda rocky; I had to do some major revising because Max's friends getting pissed at her wasn't part of the original plan.**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	3. Equal and Opposite Reaction

**You should read this.**

**And you might be like, dude, why're you updating at 11 on a school night when you have to get up for band rehearsal at 5:30 tomorrow? And my response is, I was hoping you'd tell me.**

**Anyway, this chapter is a smidgen more... supernatural than the rest of the story. But this little red herring will be over in a couple chapters. I was just a little bored writing it the way it is, so I just spiced it up a tiny bit. I'll return the plot to normal soon, unless you like the way it is now. Then I'll keep it. But I don't like it all that much, so you might not either.**

**Disclaimer: I'd never, in a million thousand years, be able to come up with the idea of mutant flying bird kids. So, I don't own Maximum Ride.**

* * *

><p>Fang POV<p>

I was nearly thrown backwards as two guys who'd been walking next to each other smacked into me by accident with their shoulders. They were all _sorry, man_ and _didn't see you there_, but I just nodded, the universal sign for 'it's all good' and walked off.

This placed _sucked_ big time. I saw a hole in the bathroom wall yesterday, and I'm pretty sure I saw something moving in there. The place was disgusting. Hopefully my mom was at least considering moving us to somewhere more sanitary. I didn't feel safe eating the cafeteria food, so I had to bring in lunch everyday. Plus, I wasn't exactly making friends easily. I wasn't a conversational person, and I didn't exactly send off 'I'm nice and I want to be your friend' vibes.

I slid into my desk in homeroom. There was an empty desk next to me; the girl had apparently been out sick for the three days I'd been here.

I took in the scene around me. Chalk dust crowded the ledge under the blackboard, and it was clear the thing hadn't been washed in about a month. The room was _aching_ for a white board. The tiles were chipping away, but instead of putting in tiles that didn't match, they'd just put duct tape over it. There were words carved into some of the older, wooden desks. The whole room smelled like boiled eggs (translation: farts) and sweat, a nauseating combination. I was considering asking to go to the nurse when she walked through the door.

I had to blink a bunch of times to chastise myself for hallucinating. It was the smell. That awful smell was making me hallucinate.

But I don't think I was hallucinating, this time.

The girl walked up to the desk and handed a note to the teacher (I'd already forgotten her name). The teacher smiled and the girl turned toward the room and literally stopped short when she saw me sitting next to what must've been her seat. Her chocolate-brown eyes widened and I swear I saw her gulp.

The reason this girl had my full attention?

She looked _a lot_ like Max. A near-perfect photocopy. Oh, sure there were differences - this girl had straighter hair, she was shorter, had freckles, her hair didn't have the hint of red that Max's had, her face was rounder, her eyes were darker, and was probably ten pounds heavier. I'm not saying she was fat, but Max was so light that _anyone_ would be heavier than her. But other than those differences, the girl had the same darkish blond hair, brown eyes, small but full lips, and thick lashes. It was unreal. She wasn't totally the same, but she was like any lookalike - you could easily mistake them for someone else.

The girl finally managed to snap out of it and slowly sit down next to me. "Hi," she muttered. Her voice was different, too.

"Hey," I said emotionlessly.

"Are you new? I'm Maya." Another difference - Max would never automatically hand out that information.

"Yeah."

She nodded awkwardly. "What's your name?"

"Nick."

"Cool."

"Yeah." I faced the front of the room again.

When the bell rang, Maya followed me out of the classroom. "So, um, do you have a place to sit at lunch?"

_No_. "I kinda float around from place to place."

"Oh." She fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt. " 'Cause you can sit at my table if. . .if you want."

"Thanks," I said before trying to ignore her again.

This was not going to be a comfortable year.

* * *

><p>Maya POV<p>

Oh. My. God.

That was him - it _had_ to be. The guy that Jeb had told me about. Fang.

The only thing he'd failed to mention was the fact that he was probably the hottest guy I've seen outside of an Abercrombie ad. He failed to mention the way his hair seemed like a dark silk curtain sweeping across his forehead, or how his eyes were so dark it looked like his pupils were nonexistant.

I rushed to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I reached into my pocket for the earpiece and slipped it into my ear. It crackled to life.

"Maya?" Jeb's voice was in her ear.

"I saw him," I whispered.

"Ah." Jeb's voice was different now. "You met Fang this morning?"

I nodded, then realized he couldn't see it. "Yeah. I did."

"So, now I'm gonna tell you something. Max's feelings are hardwired into you. If you were just naturally born, you wouldn't feel the way you do now. You wouldn't be staring after him dreamily and sighing every five seconds because you know that he's already with Max, right?"

"I know." I wish he would stop reminding me. That I wasn't naturally born, that Fang was Max's, yada yada yada.

"But here's the good news," Jeb said. "Your job is to tear him away from Max, little by little. That way, when he stops calling her and loses interest, Max'll be weak. And we'll finally get the Director off our backs." He didn't sound all 'let's celebrate our plan,' he sounded more 'let's go wallow in regret.' He should've known this was gonna have to happen, though; we'd found out that Fang was moving quite a while ago and we'd put this plan in action. 'This plan' being _me_.

"I know," I said again, then plucked the earpiece out of my ear and turned it off, hastily shoving it back into my sweatshirt pocket.

I should probably explain things, no? Yeah, well, I'm somewhat a clone. The place where I was 'born' is a lab. A lab where they created new technology that can pretty accurately clone someone if you have their DNA. Which Jeb had. I was cloned from this girl, Max, that they were trying to get into the lab. They'd been trying for months. This would be the third child that Jeb brought in for experiementation. And get this - they were all his kids. His other daughter would no doubt be following closely after Max.

I'd been told in advance that I'd have feelings that were nearly identical to this Max girl. Not the same personality, just the same feelings. For example, we both hated pink, but for different reasons. We both liked a good fight, but for different reasons. But the one thing we felt the same about was the boy - Fang. We both liked him for the same reason.

And _I_ felt bad, because _I_ was the one that was going to be expected to tear Fang away from Max. And I couldn't imagine anything harder than that. Other than standing on the sidelines and wathcing him belong to her.

That was what I'd been taught - that Fang belonged to Max and not me. I think they'd expected me to get angry at this, and challenge this, and rip him away from her. But that wasn't my reaction; it was Max's. They expected me to react like her, which I wasn't going to do. When they told me I couldn't have Fang, I said okay and meekly retreated to the sidelines. I still felt the same way about Fang, but I wouldn't act on it. They expected me to fight back, which I wouldn't do. If Fang belonged to Max, then let her have him. I wasn't going to be the one to ruin the feelings they had for each other.

At lunch, Fang actually _did_ sit with me, which was a surprise. We sat at an empty table.

"So, are you liking it here?" I asked, working toward a halfway normal tone.

He seemed to be arguing with himself in his head. "The truth or the pretty lies?" I laughed, and was actually shocked he'd been able to make me laugh. He barely smiled. "The pretty lie is that while I miss my old school it's great here. The truth is that, and don't take this offensively, I honestly hate it here and its really overcrowded and dirtier than my last school."

"I don't blame you on that one," I mumbled. "It's a pigsty here."

He nodded. "Yeah."

The conversation ceased for a couple minutes while we ate in silence. Eventually I attempted to start another conversation.

"What's your old school like? And your old friends?"

"It's cool there," he said emotionlessly. "My old friends are kinda a mismatched group. We're all completely different from each other. Kinda like. . .opposites attract. . ." His voice trailed off thoughtfully and somehow I knew that he was thinking about Max. That cut deep and I looked down, fighting the tears that budded in my eyes. But I wasn't Max. I didn't have steel feelings. I pushed away from the table and ran out of the cafeteria, overreacting majorly.

Way to make everything like one big cheesy movie.

My feet raced through the halls and straight out the front doors. This was another thing we had in common, Max and I. We needed a good run to clear our heads. I'd never met Max, but I knew so much about her from the way they spoke about her and my own feelings.

I didn't know how long I'd been running, but eventually the the double yellow lines of the highway disappeared and charming little houses appeared. I felt a clutch in my heart.

I wanted a life like the people in these houses had. I wanted to be unique. I wanted to be the only person in the world with my fingerprints. I wasn't; I had Max's fingerprints. I wanted childhood memories and parents. I didn't want to just enter the world as a fourteen-year-old and have to learn to talk and walk and not be socially awkward in a matter of a month and be sent into school. I wanted to life in a place that wasn't sterile and white and reeking of antiseptic. I wanted honest-to-God mom-cooked comfort food and a room to call my own. _Not_ what basically equaled a room with a table and a cot.

In the lab, that was considered special treatment. You were almost _never_ placed in a room like I had. Unless you were being sent into the outside world. They fed you a little better, and didn't force you to life your life in a dog crate. And I was grateful at least for that. But I wanted even more.

Maybe it was time to accept the fact that I'd _never_ get that.

* * *

><p>Fang POV<p>

I stared after Maya, bewildered. What was I supposed to do know? Just throw out her food? Leave it there in case she came back? Whatever.

I was still thinking about Max when suddenly another plastic tray slapped down on the table with a clatter. Two more trays followed after. I looked up. Halley and her friends. Of _course_. I groaned internally. Or maybe I groaned out loud. I really don't know.

"Girls," Halley said, sitting down. Her friends did the same. "This is Fang. That guy I met while I was working at the movie theater."

"I remember," one of the girls said. She was wearing an alarmingly low-cut tank top and had a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Her smile seemed snakelike as she grinned at me. "Hey, I'm Gianna."

I nodded.

"I'm Bella!" The other girl just seemed too plain stupid to be a slut. She was bouncing up and down in her chair excitedly, her short blond pixie cut flitting around her face.

I nodded again.

"So," Halley said, cracking open a mini bottle of apple juice, "how's your 'girlfriend'?" She put air quotes around the word and tilted her head, as if saying 'we both know you don't have a girlfriend, so why don't you give it up?'

"Good," I said.

"When's the last time you saw her?" Halley prompted.

"Thanksgiving," I said quickly. "We spent Thanksgiving together before I moved."

Halley finally sighed. "Fang, I'm really doubting that you actually have a girlfriend. Not that I don't think you're worthy." She smiled at me nauseatingly. "More like, I think you're afraid to be in a relationship with someone like me, so you're just saying that." She grinned confidently.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm not lying to you," I said calmly.

Halley rolled her eyes. "Okay then, what does she look like?"

If she thought I'd crack under the pressure or something, that wasn't gonna happen. "She's got kinda wavy hair that's on the line between blond and brown with the barest hint of red. She has brown eyes. And she's got really long eyelashes. She's tall but really light. She's practically a toothpick." Don't I just have the soul of a poet? I impress even myself.

Halley raised an eyebrow. "I'm eventually gonna get you to admit it, Fang," she said playfully.

I shrugged. "Good luck with that."

She giggled flirtatiously, as if I'd said something totally funny. I rolled my eyes, not caring if she saw or not.

* * *

><p>Maya didn't return for the rest of the day.<p>

I wouldn't have cared if she didn't look so much like Max.

At home, I got on my laptop almost immediately. Max was waiting for me on video chat. I almost sighed in relief. It was like I expected her to just disappear one day or something.

Seconds later, Max's face was on my computer screen. She was looking down and fiddling with the necklace I'd given her, with a tiny crease between her eyebrows.

"Hey," I said.

She looked confused for a second, and then her whole face lit up vigorously the way Angel's did when I offered her a cookie from my mom. My whole world instantly seemed a little better, like I wouldn't be quite as miserable when I woke up in the morning because I'd be remembering how Max had smiled at me the minute she saw my face.

"Oh my God, I've missed you so much it's _unreal_," Max said, a little tearfully. "School is the worst without you. I'm so insensitive. I'm talking about _my_ life when I should be asking you about yours. How is it?"

"It's still gross," I said easily, leaning back in my desk chair.

"What happened today? I wanna know everything."

I told Max about my day and my teachers and my homework, glossing over the part about Maya but including minimal details about my encounter with Halley.

"I hate her," Max said casually when I finished with the Halley story. "Stupid _slut_."

"Tell me about it." I paused. "How's life over there?"

She shuddered. "Awful. My mom's been working really long hours lately because there's been some kind of disease spreading through one of the local animal shelters, so she's overwhelmed with sick animals. Ella's turning into a major beeyotch. You can barely talk to her without getting stomping feet and slamming doors. The only time she talks to me calmly lately is to advise me on what to wear."

"Ouch," I muttered.

"I know. Winter cheerleading is like a boot camp. Mrs. Jenner keeps telling us stories about her new grandkid, and while that's better than listening to her rant about history, I'm seriously contemplating shoving a knife into my skull to get away from those stupid stories. Math is hell. The lunch table is awkward 'cause everyone is forcing laughter and stuff like that and we're all miserable because it just feels so weird without you there. Like putting your right shoe on your left foot. Our lit teacher is actually requiring that we read two books per month. I can't do that! I'm way too busy and I _hate_ her already."

"She sucks."

"I know."

"So does my new room." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder.

Max's eyes scanned the room behind me. "That's just because you're so disorganized," she said matter-of-factly. "If you were the least bit organized and cared to unpack all of those boxes, then yeah, you wouldn't hate your new room so much." She sat back in her rollie desk chair.

"You promised my mom you'd come and help unpack," I reminded her. "Is that still standing?"

She bolted upright, almost falling off the chair. "Oh my God, how could I have forgotten about that?"

"Yeah, and you say _I'm_ stupid."

"You _are_."

I shook my head. "So yeah, I take it you're coming over to help me unpack this weekend?"

"Yep."

"Awesome." I smiled - a real smile - for the first time all day.

I heard a faint voice coming from Max's end and a tentative knock. She swivelled around on her chair and faced the door. Ella entered with a surly expression.

"Mom said she's working late again. You're supposed to make dinner."

"You know I can't cook," Max said. "You do something."

"Seriously? You can't just pop a frozen pizza in the oven or something?"

"Do it for yourself." Max turned around again, the universal sign for 'I'm done talking to you so _don't_ push it further.'

"I see what you mean," I muttered.

Ella planted a hand on her hip. "Max-"

"Bye, Ella."

She stomped her foot. "MAX! Mom put _you_ in charge of dinner and I'm _not_ cooking anything!" She stormed out of the room in a huff.

"Good luck starving, then!" Max yelled out the door before turning back to her computer. "See what I mean? Hell." She propped her elbows up on her desk and buried her face in her hands. I wanted to comfort her really badly, but I couldn't think of anything to do that wasn't a hug. I couldn't think of anything to say. Finally she peeked through her fingers. "Sorry. I'm boring."

"And I have the comforting presence of a slug. So we match." The utter truth of that statement hit me weirdly. Like I was just realizing it.

Max echoed my thoughts. "I guess we do match. We've kinda matched from day one." She gave a small, sad smile. (**A/N: Let's hear it for alliteration.)**

My mind suddenly shifted to what we'd learned in science before I'd left. It felt downright strange to compare science to an everyday conversation. . . "For every action, there's an-"

"Equal and opposite reaction," Max finished with a huge smile. "I'd forgotten about that. Remember when we were supposed to make flip books for it, but the substitute was so stupid that he didn't even realize we made up all that crap about working with partners?"

"Yeah. But it's _so_ dorky that we even made that connection."

"_You_ brought it up."

"_You_ finished my sentence."

"I always do that!"

"Point made."

She grinned. "You know I like it when you admit I'm right."

"Why do you think I told you you're right?" I smiled slightly.

Her smile widened in response. We both just sat there, smiling goofily at each other before suddenly I heard something blasting through the speakers. Max jumped and fell off her chair. I laughed as she darted out of the room and around the corner, skidding on the hall carpet. I heard yelling from the room adjacent to hers and the noise suddenly ceased. She came back in the room, looking overly casual as she sat down.

"There was a complication with Ella," she said formally.

"I see."

More noise flowed from the speakers, but this time Max grabbed her phone off the desk. I heard Bruno Mars' voice on her ringtone.

"Bruno Mars? Seriously?"

She scowled. "Tess literally messes with my phone every day when we're taking a break at cheerleading. Her latest obsession is my ringtones. She's personalized ringtones for everyone in my contacts." She shook her head and glanced at the screen. "It's a text. . .from Iggy. Why would she set Bruno Mars as Iggy's ringtone?"

"I dunno," I mumbled. "Open it."

She read it slowly, mouthing the words. I tried to read her lips, but completely failed, and thought about how much I wanted to kiss her instead.

"Uh," she muttered. "It's written in Iggibberish."

"What?"

"Iggibberish," she repeated. "We came up with it the other day. When Iggy texts you with a mishmosh of words that probably makes sense to him, but absolutely zero sense to anyone else."

"Ah," I said. "So, what stupidity is he spewing this time?"

She cleared her throat and read the text. " 'I heard bout Ella ask for me if she does okay.' " She looked up. "What in the freaking world does that mean?"

"No idea," I said. "Find out."

She keyed in something and sent it. "Iggy," she sighed.

"The boy needs to learn," I agreed.

* * *

><p>Maya POV<p>

"It's hard."

"So was cloning a nearly-fifteen-year-old girl with only a sample of her DNA, but we still did it." Jeb ran his hands through his thinning hair.

My eyes watered. "You don't understand. I don't _want_ to tear Fang away from Max. I'm not wired to react like her, and I'm not malicious and vindictive like you want me to be. You _told_ me that Fang belongs to Max, and Max only. I didn't want to test that, so I said okay and let it go. You never planned that. You never plan anything!"

Jeb leaned forward, getting in my space. "I plan everything. I plan where you stay. I plan you not_ dying_. I plan you getting fed everyday."

"Did you plan killing your own two sons?" As soon as the words slipped out, I wanted to grab them and stuff them back in my mouth and choke on them.

He looked like I'd slapped him. Mortified beyond belief, I sprang up from the chair I'd been sitting in and ran out into the hallway. I wondered if my _run away_ impulse was mine or Max's. I wanted it to be mine. I wanted to be unique in a quantifiable way. I didn't want to be compared to someone else and feel pressured to be like her. I was tired of it. Why was I always the plan they relied on? They could've spent all this time planning something else. But instead they relied on me.

Not anymore. At least, I hoped.

* * *

><p><strong>Wellp, that sucked, but I didn't really feel like changing the plot completely <em>again<em>... I'm actually up to writing chapter 6. Almost done with it in fact. YAHOO!**

**Soo, did it suck? I think it did. I was like editing it and reading through it and it just _hit_ me, y'know? I was thinking wow, I suck.**

**I have a really big project due on... Tuesday! :D Which SUCKS because I usually cram half of the work into the night before the project but I CAN'T DO THAT ANYMORE because I'm gonna be watching Pretty Little Liars.**

***Drumroll please* My jazz/hip hop song is Good Feeling. It's so much fun. In a moment of sheer brilliance, my teacher combined her three-person jazz class and her three-person hip hop class into one. But one person in the jazz class dropped out for that stupid school play rehearsal, and another girl can't make it because she's going to a wedding the day of the recital. Do you not adore this? I totally do. :|**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	4. Waffles Shaped Like Monkeys

**Howdaaaay.**

**So, I got mixed opinions on the whole Maya thing, which I was happy with. I already knew it wouldn't be a popular move. My plan is to have it back to AH by chapter 10. Yay or nay?**

**But for this chapter *drumroll* it's pure fluffiness and Faxiness and fun. It's got FILLER written all over it, but HEY. We all need fillers.**

**BY THE WAY. Flute ensemble is staring up this week again, so my updates will most likely _not_ be weekly. However, if you really want to prompt me to update, go to my Tumblr. And no, I did not spell that wrong: no E. Go to www (dot) mis-guided-gh0sts (dot) tumblr (dot) com. I check that everyday, and one message on Tumblr gets me updating faster than a PM here. Go to the tab that says ASK ME - you can send me a message from there even if you don't have a Tumblr yourself.**

**Disclaimer: Me no own Maximum Ride. Or Adele.**

* * *

><p>Max POV<p>

"You just passed it." I drummed my fingers on the window and glanced back.

"No, I didn't, Max."

"Mom, yes you did."

"Maximum-"

"I saw Fang sitting on the porch!" I yelled. "You came down the street from the wrong end."

Mom gave me a disapproving glance, but turned the car around and drove back down the street. When we arrived at Fang's new big brick house, I pushed open the door and ran for the porch. Fang had been sitting there, but he stood when he saw the car and held his arms open with a grin. I hurled myself at him, so relieved to see him it was unreal. I was so giddy I was actually laughing as Fang caught me and held me tightly.

"I missed you," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

"I've missed you, too."

We could've stayed like that forever, but Nudge came running from the house, jumping straight from the porch to the ground with no regard for the steps. "MAAAAAXXX!" she screeched, running at me. I had only enough time to slightly loosen my hold on Fang's neck before Nudge smashed into my back and hugged me.

I felt like my lungs were being crushed from my body as I tried but desperately failed to gulp air. Nudge seemed to sense my struggle and loosened her hold, but only slightly. Just enough for me to pull slight breaths. After a minute of the double embrace, Nudge let go, but Fang didn't.

"Fang," I said, "I'd love my blood flow to retain some regularity again, if you don't mind."

He laughed, and I felt the laugh rumble in his chest. He squeezed me tight once more, then set my feet tentatively on the ground. I only then realized that he'd been holding me so tight that my feet had been a couple inches off the ground.

Fang's mom came out of the house next with a smile. She just squeezed me lightly instead of attacking me with a ferocious hug.

"So glad to see you, Max," she said with a soft, pleased smile.

"Hi, Kate." I smiled. "It's great to see you, too."

Fang muttered, "Angel with the adults," from behind me. I grinned and backed up slightly until I could practically sense him standing right behind me. He laughed and I felt his arms loop around my waist like the best belt in the world.

Oh my God, do you hear my cheesiness? My absolutely love-choked brain? Like, the chefs of life must be just heaping those processed American cheese slices onto the frying pan that is my life and the dish that represents the love that Fang and I share. . .

Okay, pretend that _never_ happened. Please. Twenty bucks? Bacon? I'm high on being with Fang. FANGFANGFANGFANGFANG MENTAL BLAH FANGFANGFANG BACON FANG!

Kate rushed to the car and started babbling to my mom through the open window. From the sound of it, they won't be done anytime soon. I quietly squeezed by Kate, grabbed my bag from the car, and slipped away again.

Fang took it and walked into the house with Nudge and I following close behind. I glanced around at the front yard. Nice enough. Wide front porch, made of wood that somehow manages to fascinate me with the way that it seemed brand new yet aged at the same time. Garden beds. The house was nice pattern of bricks and rocks that looked like they'd all been hand-sculpted to fit the ones around it, the shutters made of darker, chocolate brown wood.

Fang carelessly tossed my bag on the floor and spun around to face me again. "So, grand tour?"

"Sure." I tossed my coat on top of my bag. I'm already just as much at ease here as I was at Fang's old house. I don't think the house made a difference; I think it was the family inhabiting it.

Fang smiled slightly and took my hand, leading me through an archway, into the kitchen.

"Welcome to the land of food," Fang said majestically.

Nudge rolled her eyes. "Container of unicorns and wonderfulness and cheese."

"Land of food."

"_Container of unicorns and wonderfulness and cheese_."

"LAND OF FOOD!"

"Guys, guys," I said, trying to calm them down, but I was already smiling hugely at their antics.

Fang straightened up. "Did our dear Max just interupt our pointless arguement?"

Nudge cracked her knuckles. "I believe so, brotha."

Seeming more giddy than usual (and giddy should not be a word to describe Fang), he charged at me like a bear. I giggled and darted back the way I'd come, taking unfamilar routes through the unfamiliar house. I eventually ended up dead-ending at their sliding back door, because I couldn't figure out how to open it. I found out later that the wooden stick thing had been stuck in the tracks. I felt Fang's hands hook under my arms and lift me up like a toddler, thrashing and screaming the whole way to the kitchen.

He plopped me down on one of the granite black countertops and leaned forward, trapping me with his arms on both sides of me. I couldn't help giggling like a little girl at the proximity.

"I won't let you go until you apologize."

"We'll be here for a reeeally long time, then." I grinned and looped my arms around his neck. I felt tall, for once, sitting on the counter, with Fang's eyes at least a foot lower than mine. Fang shrugged and smiled back at me while Nudge practically bounced in the background, her eyes zinging from me to Fang, me to Fang, me to Fang. It was dizzying, watching her.

Fang stood on his toes, as high as he could, and quickly kissed me - just a peck on the lips. It still made me grin crazily and push him forward so I could slide off the counter and hug him again, just completely relieved that I was with him after so long without seeing him.

* * *

><p>I rolled over so my head was hanging off the bed, and I was staring at Nudge upside down. "Nudge, I've missed you like crazy, but I can honestly say I have not missed your motormouth."<p>

She laughed in a creepy, skin-shivery way, and kept babbling nonstop about something. I speed-pressed the volume button on her iPod dock, cranking up Adele's really kick-ass voice.

_But my knees were far too weak. . ._

"TO STAND IN YOUR ARMS, WITHOUT FALLIN' TO YOUR FEET!" Nudge suddenly burst out. She started jumping on the bed, way too hyperactive, and yanked me up next to her. She kept screaming the lyrics. "THERE'S A SIDE, TO YOU, THAT I NEVER KNEW, NEVER KNEW!"

Almost as giddy as Nudge, I screamed along with her. "ALL THE THINGS, YOU'D SAY, THEY WERE NEVER TRUE, NEVER TRUE!" Nudge grabbed my hand and pulled me up onto the bed next to her. "AND THE GAMES, YOU'D PLAY, YOU WOULD ALWAYS WIN, ALWAYS WIIIIIIIIIIIN!"

Fang burst into the room just as the chorus hit, glaring at us as we bounced giddily and screamed "BUT I SET FIRE TO THE RAIN!" over and over. I jumped off the bed and landed on the floor with a painful thud, but I was so hyper I barely noticed the pain. I ran at Fang and jumped on his back, securing my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist, all the while singing along with the song. Nudge just kept bouncing like an overactive bobblehead.

Fang walked across the room, all the while carrying me on my back while I belted the lyrics in his ear. He quickly turned the volume down on the song, and had to work for a little while to loosen my arms and legs and set me on the floor. I could feel the excitement on my own face, the way I could barely hold still.

"What did you feed her, Nudge?" Fang sat down on the bed and yanked on Nudge's arm to get her to sit down and be calm.

"I dunno," Nudge said quickly, slurring the words together in her haste to get them out. "Maybe I'm rubbing off on her. I always rub off on her. It's funny. Hehe!"

I sat down next to Fang. My hyperness (is that a word?) had passed, leaving weariness in its place. We'd shifted around boxes and furniture all day long. I'd stood on chairs and perched precariously on the very top rung of ladders to hang up a painting or put a china bowl on the highest shelf in the cabinet. I'd gotten a ride on Fang's shoulders sometimes, and once I actually slid down the banister and smashed my butt on the floor.

"Well, Mom just made brownies and she said we can have a few if you want but I doubt it's a good idea with you already so hyped up." He frowned at me as my eyes lit up at the mention of sugar.

"Brownies sound great. Why can't we have brownies? Fang? Why? Why are you trying to keep us from the brownies? Let's go?" After so many questions, the last one ended up slipping out sounding a lot like a question. I ran for the door, and swayed and almost smacked right into it. Never failing to be there, Fang caught my elbow and guided me away from the dangerous enemy that was the door.

Kate was a truly amazing cook. Those brownies were warm and moist and oozing with hot fudge. I ate five, making up for all the gymnastics and acro and cheerleading I'd endured during the week. I'd been so busy for so long that I didn't have enough time to eat my usual rations of food. Most of the time, I barely had enough time to inhale a granola bar. Yuck.

After I finished my brownies, I felt oddly full. That was weird. I was never full. Ever. I ended up hamming it up a bunch until Fang agreed to carry me upstairs. Once we got upstairs, he dropped the amiable smile and agreeableness and dropped me on Nudge's floor.

My fall was cushioned by a black sleeping back and an air matress. I admit that for a second I felt a lot like I was in a Sleepy's commercial, falling back into a cocoon of feather pillows and having them puff around me like a taco shell. But that was over in about half a second and I was bounced out of the air matress and sent flailing a full foot into the air again. I imagined that I probably looked like a ridiculous cartoon, with my arms windmilling and my legs doing a really weird spastic dance. Even if it was only for like, a second until I fell totally ungracefully to the matress again.

I flipped over so I was laying on my (way overstuffed) stomach. I glanced around at Nudge's room appreciatively. Nudge was yawning and curling up on her bed. "We cleaned up really well." The floor was visible now, and we'd make it possible to walk through without having to step on a box. Points for us, right?

He smirked and started backing out of the room. "Yep."

"WAIT!" I shrieked frantically.

He paused at the door and turned around, waiting expectantly. "Yes?"

I frowned hazily. "You didn't say good night."

Fang gave a long-suffering sigh and crossed the room to me again, crouching down to my level. "Good night, Max."

A yawn overtook me for a second and I couldn't respond. "Night," I mumbled sleepily. Luckily, Nudge'd had the good sense to persuade me to change into my pajamas an hour earlier so I could fall over and sleep whenever I wanted. This certainly qualified as one of those fall over and sleep whenever I wanted situations. I curled up on my side, on top of the sleeping bag, and yawned again.

I heard a barely audible chuckle and soft footsteps. I didn't open my eyes. I felt Fang's way-too-warm-but-in-a-nice-way hand pull my hair away from my face. I felt him lightly push me onto the floor and barely had ten seconds to get my brain to figure out why before he picked me up and put me on the matress again. He zipped the sleeping bag around me and I sighed and snuggled into it. He laughed again and I felt something touch my hair, and assumed he'd kissed the top of my head.

I wasn't totally sure, though, because I was quickly tripping and falling into that thing we call sleep.

* * *

><p>Fang POV<p>

Do you have any idea what it's like to wake up, open your eyes, and find yourself feeling like you must've just fallen into a vat of milk chocolate, because that's the only color you can see?

It's weirdly pleasant. But, pleasant or not, it'll freak you out, so don't try it, cause you'll scream.

"Woah!" I yelled. I blindly flailed around and my hand whacked against my headboard and I got all tangled up in the sheets. My first thought was that I was being kidnapped and my kidnappers were probably tightening the ropes around me at that moment. I started frantically shimmying like a mental patient trying to shake a straight jacket.

Above my confusion, I heard laughing. A familiar laugh. I struggled to free my head and saw Max on the floor, practically convulsing with laughter.

Calmer now, I easily shook off the sheets that'd been tangled around my legs and arms. I then proceeded to tickle the living daylights out of Max.

"Stoppppp!" she shrieked. She was laughing so hard she was practically choking, and no sound came out. You could just tell she was laughing by the shaking of her shoulders and the sudden, gasping breaths she took before breaking into another fit of laughter.

A sudden knock on the door made us both freeze. Max caught her breath and tilted her head toward the door. I was leaning over her, holding her upraised fists in my hands. Max, of course, had tried to punch me in the stomach to get me to quit tickling her.

Nudge tentatively poked her nose through the door. "Um, I don't mean to interrupt, but Mom's using the new waffle maker to make waffles shaped like monkeys and girraffes and turtles."

Max gasped. "Are you for real?"

My sister nodded. "Yes."

"_Holy sweet monkey asses,_" Max blurted. "Fang, let me up!"

We both sprang up at the same second and bolted for the door, which presented us with a couple complications. We both smashed together when we tried to squeeze through the door at the same time. I eventually just shoved her out in front of me and we both slid down the banister. Max wobbled and almost fell, but I grabbed her around her waist and dragged her into the kitchen after me.

Mom stood, smiling, at the counter. Our animal waffle maker was on the counter in front of her, and a plate filled with perfect, golden brown waffles sat next to it. Max wrenched free from me and ran for the waffles. Once she had them, she darted for the table, shoving a turtle in her mouth on the way.

"Wait!" Nudge shrieked. "You need a plate! And syrup!" Max said something unintelligible through her waffle and set the plate down.

I sat down with three plates and handed one to Nudge and Max. I took hold of the waffle plate and slid some carefully, slowly onto mine. I decided it would be best if I could control the portions that Max ate, so I only gave her two more. She glared, appalled, at the small amount of food on her plate. I grinned and handed the plate off to Nudge.

Max was attempting to compensate for the lack of waffles by suffocating them in syrup. I fought my twitching lips as I watched the syrup fill her plate completely. She seemed completely unaffected, and ate her waffles as if they hadn't just suffered a syrup tsunami.

Without conciously realizing it, I started staring at Max like a creeper, determining the minute differences between her and Maya. I was kinda perceptive with that kind of stuff. She was more fearless than Maya. Her movements were more sure and abrupt. She smiled more and had a prettier laugh. She had that hint of red in her hair that Maya didn't. Her eyelashes seemed like they were longer. Her eyes warmer. Less closed off yet a million times more closed off. If that makes sense. Which it probably doesn't. It does to me, okay?

Sensing my gaze, Max looked up and stared at me questioningly. I just shrugged and grinned. She rolled her eyes playfully and went back to finishing her second waffle. When she was done with that one, she reached for three more. I didn't stop her. What was the point, really? She'd just hurt me if I did.

After breakfast, Nudge dragged Max into her room, towing Max's overnight bag behind her. My guess was that Ella had packed clothes for Max, and her and Nudge had schemed about it. Nudge was probably dying to assess Ella's work alone in her room. Well, not really alone. She's be tossing the clothes at Max at the same time.

I retreated to my room and turned on my laptop while I traded my black t-shirt and blank flannel sleep pants for black jeans and a slightly different black t-shirt. Something most people don't know about me is that my favorite color is black. That was sarcasm, if you didn't already know.

I sat down on my desk chair and opened my Gmail account. There were three new ones. One from Club Penguin, reminding me about the account I'd made when I was ten. Um, wow.

The next two were duplicates, like it'd accidentally been sent twice. I clicked on it. The return address read Lissa Ryan.

I groaned and opened it, scanning the email.

_Hi Fang :) I heard from Max and a couple other people that you moved. I didn't know that :( I would've said good bye to you before you left. Anyway, I was thinking that we could hang out again sometime soon. As friends, you know? I've been thinking about you a bunch and I know you're thinking about me :) -Lissa :D_

I gagged at her nauseating message. _I've been thinking about you a bunch and I know you're thinking about me_. What the hell? How much more. . .slutty could you get? That was coming on a little strong, no?

I typed my reply.

_Hi Lissa :) I have, in fact, __**not**__ been thinking about you. But it's nice to know you've been creepily thinking about me. . . Anyway, I don't think we should hang out again anytime soon. So take your fake Barbie perfectness and shove it up your ass. -Fang :D_

I grinned, unnecessarily pleased with myself, and sent the message. I quickly closed out of Gmail before Max could start reading over my shoulder and get pissed. She always seemed to appear out of nowhere.

I heard a scream and a crash from the next room. I bolted to Nudge's room just in time to witness Nudge's door flying open and Max rushing out, banging into me.

"Geeeeeeet baaaaaack heeeeeeere!" Nudge wailed, running out of the room after Max.

Max hurriedly disentangled herself from my arms. "No way!"

"Max! This is what Ella packed for you!"

"And this is what I packed for _me_! I'm fourteen years old, going on fifteen in a month, and I don't need to be packed for and dressed up!" She was perched on the wide bay window ledge, like a bird sitting perfectly still, waiting for the right moment to fly away from the snake.

"That is absolutely _not_ girly enough to compliment your face, Max." She pointed at Max's clothes and shivered.

"This is what I want to wear." Max was wearing just her usual hoodie-jeans-Converse combination.

"Yeah, but that's still nowhere close to what you _should _wear. Max, you need to embrace your inner girliness!"

"That's not even a _word_!"

"It is to me! Don't knock my word."

"I'll knock it if I wanna!"

"Okay, okay," I muttered, terrified of getting involved in their fight. "Nudge, just let Max wear what she wants, okay? She shouldn't have to live by what you and Ella want her to wear."

"But _look_!" Nudge held out the outfit that she and Ella had selected. It was a striped sweater dress type thing with tights.

"And you expected Max to wear a dress because. . . ?" I heard Max sigh and mutter 'thank you.'

Nudge pouted. "But look at the shoes!" She ran back into her room and came back with heeled ankle boots. I frowned, willing for them to suddenly disintegrate.

"Ah. I see."

"You do?" Her face brightened.

"Yep," I said. "You're trying to kill Max, for some reason I can't fathom."

I heard Max laugh and suddenly felt her wrap her arms around my neck and jump. I automatically stretched my arms away from my waist. Max jumped onto my back and wrapped her legs around my waist to hold herself there.

Looking angry and definitely out for revenge, Nudge marched back into her room with a sinister smile. "I'll get you into something girly soon, Max." She turned. Her smile was creepy and sinister as she gently closed the door behind her.

"Well," Max said, "that was creepy."

* * *

><p><strong>So, did I tell you it was a filler, or did I tell you it was a filler?<strong>

***If you didn't read the top A/N. Kindly read this.*  
>Flute ensemble is staring up this week again, so my updates will most likely <em>not<em> be weekly. However, if you really want to prompt me to update, go to my Tumblr. And no, I did not spell that wrong: no E. Go to _www (dot) mis-guided-gh0sts (dot) tumblr (dot) com._ I check that everyday, and one message on Tumblr gets me updating faster than a PM here. Go to the tab that says ASK ME - you can send me a message from there even if you don't have a Tumblr yourself.**

**So, my friend and I yank open my lit teacher's door when the room's empty and she's the only one in there, meow like homeless cats, and run away.**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	5. That New Kid

**Really sorry for not updating sooner... ear infection, flute ensemble, blah blah blah, cousin getting engaged, dance, blah blah blaaaah... all that happy horsepoop.**

**Anyway, just wanted to throw it out there that I was kinda majorly disappointed with the reviews on the last chapter. I got maybe ten or so, and it's not really a huge motivator... I'm not gonna be like a control freak or anything and force you to review in order for me to update, but a few more reviews this time around would be cool. I mean, I'm kinda doubting this a bunch now.**

**Alright, getting this up and flying out the door to ballet. Nbd.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that belongs to James Patterson. Or anyone else...**

* * *

><p>MaxPOV<p>

I was sitting in Mrs. Jenner's class, tapping my pencil in irritation, waiting for the lesson to start, when I found out we had a new student. For a second I was imersed in such hope that it would be Fang that I could barely breathe. But then an ordinary-looking kid with sandy-brownish hair and hazel-ish eyes walked in and the stupid disappointment was crushing.

He walked, slouching, up to Mrs. Jenner's desk. I watched him, examining him with interest. His eyes flickered up to meet mine for half a second before looking down at the floor again. It seemed like he did a double-take, because he suddenly lifted his head and looked at me with a more piercing, focused gaze. I raised an eyebrow and offered up my best glare. He still didn't look away, and I dropped my eyebrow and allowed my face to furrow into a scowl. He looked away then.

"Um." He stood hesitantly next to Mrs. Jenner's desk, who was writing something at the moment, but looked up when she heard the guy's voice.

"Yes?" She sat there, and in the new silence I could hear her foot tapping impatiently.

When he didn't say anything back in a matter of three seconds, the whole class started snickering. The guy didn't spare us a glance.

The look on Mrs. Jenner's face said she was dissatisfied with both the new kid and her class. "Speak up."

"Well, it's my first day here, and I'm pretty sure I'm in the right classroom, but I guess I could be wrong. . ." He trailed off, looking helpless.

"Wait for it. . ." the girl sitting in the seat in front of me whispered.

"What does your schedule say?" Mrs. Jenner barked, reaching the end of her patience.

"And she has officially exploded," someone else whispered.

The kid hurriedly jerked a piece of paper out of his backpack. "Room 136, Social Studies with Mrs. Jenner."

Mrs. Jenner stood up. "Have a seat," she said with a scowl. She indicated the empty one next to me. _Fantastic_. "Maximum can help you get caught up on the lesson." Only then did she turn and make eye contact with me. Her expression was a little tired, like she already knew she'd meet resistance from me.

She was right. "Why me?" I hissed.

"Because I asked you to," she said sharply, and turned back to the board. "Someone name the three parts of the Constitution," she boomed. Hands shot up all over the room, nervous that if they didn't, Mrs. Jenner would eat them alive.

New Kid sat down next to me. That's what I'll call him until he cares enough to tell me his name. I watched him critically as he sat down and struggled to get paper to take notes on out of his backpack. He finally managed it and sat up again, glancing at me nervously. "Hi," he said.

I was an expert at looking totally cool and disinterested. "Hi," I said, subtly mocking his slightly nervous tone.

"So, what's the lesson on?"

"The Constitution." I pointed to the big, messy letters Mrs. Jenner had scrawled on the board.

"Oh." He paused. "Is she a really boring teacher?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, she's fantastic. She keeps me on my toes. Never know what she's gonna do next."

He actually cracked a smile at my sarcasm. "So, what's your name again? Maximum?"

"Yeah." I stared him down, daring him to make a that's-a-weird-name comment. But he didn't.

"That's cool. Interesting." I smirked and shook my head, looking down at my notes. "My name is boring. Sam."

I dropped my pencil on my desk and turned to look him straight in the eye. He seemed to shrink slightly away from my intense gaze. "Look, this small talk is really interesting and I'd _so_ love to risk detention by continuing it, but we really should focus on the lesson by now. Mrs. Jenner's kinda picky about that kind of stuff."

The tops of his ears turned red. I almsot felt bad, for a split second, before remembering how much I didn't care.

"Maximum Ride!" Mrs. Jenner snapped.

I twisted around to face her, raising my eyebrows in the general expression for 'yo, sup.'

"Office please. Now."

I tried not to glare at Sam while I stood up and walked with grace and dignity to the door. Little did Mrs. Jenner know that I would not, in fact, go to the principal's office, but would probably just hang out around the school instead.

Checking to make sure there were no nearby teachers, I pulled out my phone and texted the only person I ever felt like talking to these days.

Max: _Just got in trouble with the witch._

Fang's reply was so instant it was scary.

Fang: _Ouch. What'd you do?  
><em>Max: _There was a new kid this morning. He wouldn't quit talking to me, and I take the heat for it.  
><em>Fang: _Tell him to back off or he'll meet me.  
><em>Max: _You kidding? I'd probably get in trouble for talking to him again.  
><em>Fang: _Still. Tell him to quit it.  
><em>Max: _I'll see how he responds to that after I'm done ditching class.  
><em>Fang: _Seriously though. Tell him.  
><em>Max: _I'll make sure to.  
><em>Fang: _Good. I gotta go before I get yelled at. I have to do an experiment in science.  
><em>Max: _Punch people in the face. Bye.  
><em>Fang: _I will. Bye._

Well, now I was bored. I wandered aimlessly, ducking every time I passed the principal's office on the off chance that Mrs. Jenner might've had to run in there and make copies of something. It would be just my luck.

It was also just my luck to bump into Sam on my third loop through the hallways. He looked surprised to see me.

"Oh, uh, hi, Max." He glanced nervously over my shoulder and then over his. He was taller than me. I hated that. "Aren't you supposed to be in the principal's office?"

I folded my arms. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

He smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, but my pencil broke and I had to ask someone for another one, so she sent me to the principal's office too."

Despite myself, I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Jenner jumped at every chance to send someone to the office. I think it makes her feel badass. If so, she should probably take up a new hobby, because Mrs. Jenner is the furthest thing from badass.

"Don't even bother going," I said. "There's no point."

He looked even more surprised to hear this. "Won't we get in more trouble?"

I scoffed at that. "No way! The secretaries would just send us out anyway. They know how much she overreacts and usually just dismiss everyone sent by Mrs. Jenner anyway."

"Oh." He paused. "That's cool, I guess. So what do we do know? Go back to class?"

"No." I turned and kept walking, and heard the sound of his Converse squeaking as he tried to keep up with me. "Now, we hang out in the halls and cut class."

"And we won't get in trouble for any of this?"

I stopped abruptly and looked him straight in the eye. "What's your deal? Even if we do get caught, _which we won't_, who cares? What're they gonna do, carry out death by firing squad? Grow a backbone, dude."

He paused. "You're a bunch different than the majority of the girls around here."

"I'm going to assume that's a compliment and say thanks and back off in the same sentence."

He held his hands up defensively. "That was a compliment, I promise."

"Better be," I muttered halfheartedly as I resumed walking. There was a short, awkward silence. "I was texting my boyfriend before you bumped into me. I told him what happened with Jenner and why I got in trouble. He said, and I quote. . ." I pulled out my phone for more accurate reference. " 'Tell him to back off or he'll meet me.' " I closed my phone and slipped it back into my back pocket, waiting for him to think that over.

"Seems a bit protective, no?" he finally said weakly.

I looked at him with expressionless eyes. "Nope. I'm going to assume you've never had a girlfriend." I rounded another corner sharply, praying I'd shake him and he'd decide something else, like the broken water fountain, was a hell of a lot more interesting.

He bristled a little at that. "It's none of your business anyway."

"I'll take that as a 'no, I haven't had one.' No one in your old school fit the bill?" I knew I was being insanely intrusive and being way too rude and snarky, but I couldn't help it.

There was a short silence before he reluctantly spoke. "Not really," he admitted.

I nodded as if I was the love guru. Which I so wasn't. "I see." Although I really didn't, actually.

The bell has become like music to me, in a lot of ways. Sometimes I feel like just bursting out and singing whenever I hear it because I feel like crying in relief that one class is over. But then I remember I have another one directly after and suddenly I don't really feel that much like singing anymore.

"See ya." I decided to leave the new kid alone, in the middle of the hallway that was swiftly overflowing with students, while I took a really complicated route back to Mrs. Jenner's room to pick up my stuff.

Because that's what I do when I automatically hate someone, for no reason.

* * *

><p>I was sitting at the dining room table, mindlessly doodling in the margins of my math homework, when Mom walked in from the kitchen, looking like her mind was a million miles away. I set my pencil down and looked at her questioningly.<p>

"Max, are you depressed?" Mom asked suddenly, without any preamble.

I was so shocked that it took me a second to collect my thoughts. "No. Not really. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was kind of thinking of sending you to a counselor or something because I was watching this thing on the news about teenage depression and usually when teenagers get depressed they start starving themselves or cutting themselves or something." She looked really nervous to be saying this stuff out loud. Her eyes flickered down to where my forearms were resting on my math worksheet. Like she was worried I was hiding red slashes under the fabric of my shirt.

I took a deep breath. "Mom, how much did I eat at dinner tonight?"

She looked confused. "I don't know, maybe two servings of stir fry and four biscuits? Why?"

"Does it seem like I'm starving myself?" This stuff was hard to talk about with my mom.

"No," she said slowly. If a person can say a single word slowly, she did.

I pushed up the sleeves of my shirt and held my arms out, palms up, towards her. "Go ahead. Inspect my wrists. I'm not self-harming, either."

Mom glanced at the smooth skin on my wrists and forearms. Totally unscathed. Except for a bruise I'd gotten last week from sliding down the banister too fast and jamming my arm into the sofa trying to stop myself. But she knew about that already.

"Okay," she said hesitantly. "Maybe you're okay. But you've just been so. . .lifeless lately."

I tried to keep the surprise off my face. Ever since I'd seen Fang last weekend, I'd felt a little better. It'd made me realize how likely it was that we'd see each other often. But even before that, I'd made an effort to not seem depressed. "I have?"

"Maybe not so much recently as in the past," she ammended. "But really. . .if you need to talk to anyone about anything, you have me. And your sister."

_Who has totally turned into a mega bitch._ "Thanks, Mom. But you don't have anything to worry about. Really."

She nodded, looking only slightly convinced, and went upstairs.

It was kinda hard to focus on my homework after that. I felt like I'd disappointed my mom somehow. Like she'd been expecting me to suddenly just become a pocketful of sunshine once my best friend moved miles away (thank Natasha Bedingfield for that particular analogy). I shut my math book and went upstairs. I tried not to think about Fang, or my bitchy sister, or my worried mom, or my blinded friend Iggy, or stupid Dylan, or stupid Sam. I just shut my eyes and flopped backwards onto my bed and tried very hard not to think.

But it's really hard to not think when it's physically impossible not to. Really. I once read that girls' minds always have to be thinking something, but guys' minds can be empty sometimes. That should drop a major hint - girls are superior.

After a while of sitting there and futilely attempting to not think, the door burst open and slammed into the wall, and Ella stood there, sulking, with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Thanks for knocking, come on in," I mumbled flatly.

Ella huffed angrily and stepped into my room. I was instantly distracted by the tiny _click_ I heard when she put her foot down. I bolted upright and stared at the low-heeled sandals on Ella's feet in horror. The straps were all tangled around her feet and ankles, but left her toes free. Which were coated in a layer of blood-red nail polish. And her shirt kept riding up a couple inches on the bottom. I was horror-struck. When had my sister turned into such a. . .Lissa-clone?

"Ella, has Mom seen you in that outfit?" I demanded.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder defiantly. Her face was painted with makeup. "Sure she has." Her voice faltered; it cracked on the last word.

I stood up slowly. She was an inch taller than me in those ridiculous heels. "I doubt it. How'd you keep her from noticing?"

She shrugged. "Easy. A heavy coat, my hood pulled really close around my face, and it's simple."

"So you're telling me she totally didn't notice that your jeans are _thisclose_ to revealing your butt and you're wearing those retarded heels?"

"What's it to you, anyway?" She lifted her chin.

I glared at her. "The point is, people know that you're my sister. And I'm so embarassed that you're my sister while you're dressed like this."

Ella seemed to deflate a teensy super tiny little bit. "It's not up to you anyway, Max. You shouldn't care so much about what I do now if you're embarassed that I'm your sister." She stormed angrily to my closet and started harshly leafing through the clumps of hangers.

"I said I'm embarassed to be your sister while you're dressed like this," I emphasized. "And if you think you're still treating me like your Barbie doll, you're wrong."

"I'm not treating you like a Barbie doll, and I am still dressing you." She pulled out a shirt that still had the tags on it. My somewhat. . .irresponsible Aunt Emmi had given it to me. It was extremely low-cut and showed off quite a bit of midriff. Not my style at all. It shouldn't be anybody's, really.

"You don't get to decide what I wear," I said, as calmly as I could. "But Mom is probably going to decide what _you_ wear for the next ten years once she finds out about this."

She stepped a little closer. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

I snorted. "Give me one good, honest-to-God reason why the hell not."

"Becuase we're sisters and we keep secrets for each other." Her eyeliner-ringed eyes were wide, begging with me.

"I'm not going to keep secrets for you if you're showing yourself off to the world like that," I huffed. "Seriously, Ella, nothing says 'slut' like that getup."

Our easy sisterly banter seemed to crack through the bitchy charade a little. "Pleeeease? I swear, I'll vacuum your room for you for a month."

I slid my sock across the floor. "In case you haven't noticed, my floors are hardwood."

She clasped her hands together and I saw that she was wearing fake tips that she must've glued to her nails that morning. "Please, Max, I'll do anything."

I pretended to consider the offer. "Does 'anything' include not dressing like that anymore?"

Ella seemed kinda sheepish. "Yeah," she said. "It's kinda a phase, I guess. I've been hanging out with these girls from cheerleading recently and I guess they're kinda sorta totally bad influences. One of them has three boyfriends right now."

There was a totally unnerving tone of awe in her voice. I shook my head. "Don't hang out with them anymore. Just a recommendation. And change. Please."

She nodded and headed for the door. Now, this wasn't a movie, so I hadn't totally altered her seemingly constant bitter attitude. There wasn't a grand hug or anything like that. Just Ella walking past me to go change. I caught a huge noseful of overly sweet perfume and gagged. Perfume was gross. Everyone knows you're wearing perfume the second they can smell you, so what's the point? Then everyone knows that you're probably wearing perfume to cover up some kind of awful BO problem.

Sometimes, the human race is just a totally mystery to me.

* * *

><p>Maya POV<p>

I hesitated slightly, standing outside the huge building. My shoulders rose up and down quickly from my run. I felt better. My lungs were on fire - I hadn't stopped running for at least a solid hour - but I still felt better.

I'd promised myself that I wouldn't come back here. I stared at the tiny pad next to the stainless steel door so hard that it blurred. The tiny touch screen was glowing faintly as the day progressively got darker. Just pressing my finger to it would open those doors. I'd be warm. I'd be 'home'. Jeb would see to it that I got food, and was kept presentable and ready for school the next day. He'd get someone to do my homework, since I wasn't really expected to keep up the charade once I got back to the school.

But what if he was so angry that I ran away that he'd withhold those privledges from me?

One way to find out.

I pressed my index finger to the tiny screen. It heated up instantly, and I waited for a second. It flashed green and the words _Welcome, MAYA (01M298D5)_. Usually experiments weren't registered with fingerprints in the system. But I was constantly coming and going, and they'd need a guard stationed at the door all day so he'd know when to let me in. It hurt to see my number there, alongside my name, on the screen. I wasn't a number. I was a person. With feelings. It wasn't my fault that most of my features and part of my personality belonged to someone else.

I pulled open the door and progressed to the next set. There were seven in all. They're extremely top-secret top-security here. No duh. They're experimenting on animals and humans and everything else they can possibly do. I winced and placed my finger into the tiny slot in the wall. There was a tiny second of mild pain, and when I retracted my finger, a bead of blood bubbled at the tip. So beyond caring, I wiped it off on my shirt and opened that door.

Finally, I was in the dimly lit lobby. Believe it or not, behind all those security measures, the School looks pretty normal. Like a hospital. But once you get to the big glass windows revealing stacks of dog crates and cages holding experiments, you realize that something's up.

"Maya." I heard a feathery voice sigh my name and reflexively jerked towards the sound. One of the scientists was approaching me. I didn't really know all their names, but I recognized this one: shoulder-length black hair, weird silver eyes, a curved nose that kind of looked like a beak.

"What?" I snapped defensively.

"You've been gone a long time," she said sharply. "Anything wrong?"

I blew out a big breath of air. "No," I lied. "I'm fine." I turned down the hallway that I knew would lead to Jeb's office. "I just want a normal life," I muttered under my breath, to no one in particular.

Jeb's office is probably the closest thing I have to home. Even where I sleep changes constantly. On a cot, in a room barely bigger than a storage closet. In an actual bed, in a room filled with other beds, that are completely empty. On a hospital bed. In a bed that's actually warm and homey and looks like it could belong in a decorating catalogue. You get the picture. Jeb's office is somewhat homey, and maybe one of the only places in the whole lab that's not sterile and white. It has warm, coffee-with-milk-colored carpeting, wood-paneled walls, and a big oak desk. There are big, cushy chairs, and bookshelves, and filing cabinets. It's surprisingly nice for such a horrid place.

Jeb wasn't there when I walked in. I just shrugged and curled up into a ball on one of the big chairs. He'd be back from wherever he was soon enough. He'd come and find me, and then I'd ask to sleep in here, preferrably for the rest of my life. Just never, ever leave.

I wasn't sure how long it took for the door to click open and the familiar sound of Jeb's shoes against the floor shoved me harshly out of a drowsy half-sleep. I woke with a start, and wearily peered over the top of the wing chair at the person by the door.

And froze. It wasn't Jeb.

I'd never seen this particular woman in person before, but I'd seen enough pictures to recognize her instantly. She looked normal, like a business-woman-slash-mom-of-three would look; shoulder-length, blond curly hair. Warm brown eyes. Perfect posture. Slight wrinkles around her mouth that suggested she was a person that spent a lot of time smiling.

She wasn't really smiling right now.

"Maya," she said, and her voice was a complete contrast to her face. It was warm and welcoming, while her features were flat and cold.

I rose unsteadily from the chair. "Um, uh, hi," I spluttered. "It's really nice to finally meet you face-to-face." I held out my hand.

The Director pointed her sharp nose a little higher in the air. "I rarely make personal visits to our experiments."

I let my hand fall to my side. "Right. Of course."

"I'm here. . ." Her voice trailed off, and she moved to stand behind Jeb's desk, bracing her slim hands on the top of it. "I'm here to speak to you, personally." She arched an eyebrow as if she expected me to start gushing thanks and offer her something to drink. When I didn't, she continued in a clipped tone. "Your mission is to loosen the ties between Maximum 'Max' Ride Martinez and Nicolas 'Fang' Joseph Thorne. Correct?"

Even though I'd never heard my task addressed in such a formal way before, she'd pretty much hit the nail on the head. "That's right," I said unsteadily, wondering what she was getting at.

"Right." She smiled, but it wasn't warm and reassuring; it was a predator's smile. "It's been brought to my attention that your success is not coming quickly enough."

Instantly I felt a shock of anger course through my body. I could practically taste it; it was the 'Max' part of my personality coming through. I knew _everything_ about Max. And I knew that she'd get angry quickly in a situation like this.

"Well, I've barely been going to school with Fang for a week," I said carefully. "He just started two weeks ago. You had me out of school then, undergoing tests. Jeb said that you personally requested it."

Her expression changed from predatory to plain mean. "It's not my fault that you have the social skills of an alligator," she snapped.

That cut deep. She expected me to be a social butterfly when I've had minimal interaction with outside life, at best?

I took a deep breath to calm myself. "So, what's the point of you being here? To shove my failure in my face and scream at me to work harder?" I realized I shouldn't use such a critical, sharp tone with the Director; it could end up really badly for me, at least.

"I'm here to tell you that you have three weeks, a month, tops, to turn things around for the better, or you will be terminated." She whirled and stalked for the door.

"Promise?" I muttered under my breath, low enough that she couldn't hear. I flopped back into the chair and curled up into a ball. I folded my arms over my knees, buried my head in them, and cried.

Jeb found me like that; I barely heard the door open this time, and a horrible panic invaded me that it might be the Director again. But no, it was Jeb, and he lightly patted my hair and hugged me and muttered senseless stuff until I stopped crying.

When I finally looked up, Jeb was watching me. "What did she say to you?" he demanded. "No one would tell me anything. They just said they saw you go into my office, and the Director follow you in a little while later."

I gave a watery smile. "She said she's going to kill me if I don't start showing progress in the next three weeks."

His brow furrowed. "You mean terminate?"

"No," I said raggedly. "I mean she's going to kill me."

"Maya," Jeb muttered, looking around as if wondering if people were eavesdropping. "No one gets killed. Experiments get terminated. Not killed. That's one of the Director's rules; do not use the word kill."

"Oh, what does it matter?" I cried. "You can dress it up or dress it down as much as you want, but the end result is the same; a living organism ends up _dead_."

He paused. "I know. And I have a plan."

I looked up hopefully, feeling the tears dry on my face. "You do? What kind of plan?"

"I don't know yet. I've been thinking about it for a while. And hopefully, it'll be refined in a few weeks. Soon enough to get us both out of here." He did it again; glanced around, all paranoid.

"Okay," I said, hope filling me for the first time in who knows how long. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p><strong>Kay, leaving for ballet, then curling up and watching Life As We Know It on the couch. Got it. Bye.<strong>

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	6. Keeping Secrets Is Not My Strong Suit

**Um, hi, really sorry that this is waaaay overdue. Stuff has been SO crazy. Like, dance team auditions are in a couple weeks and I still have yet to learn what a flying disc is and nail it.**

**Let's all take a moment and appreciate how awkward my life is. I won't write you a monologue or whatever, PM me if you want details.**

**Aaaaaand, let's all take a moment to clap for the awesome people I've been having epic PM conversations with for a really long time. I've been talking with the amazing ScarlettWings about anything & everything dance related (plus socks, and the cutting of socks...) &the equally as amazing SugoiASIAN-FTW about PLL. (For those of you that don't watch PLL *gasp* it stands for Pretty Little Liars.) &Idk if Ally463 reads this, but we've been keeping up a steady PM convo since November. She's so totally awesome. And last but totally not least, I have awesome convos with thatonechickMR as well. About multiple things. SOOOOOOOO you're all so totally awesome, and covered with Liam Payne amazingness sauce. (See next line for explanation.)**

**ALERT. I've become what some of you may dread. A major Directioner. Expect 1D references from here on out.**

**Pretty sure my friend told me she likes my best friend today, but I'm in deNiall.  
>(That was a One Direction reference, FYI.)<strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own.**

* * *

><p>Max POV<p>

I closed my eyes for concentration. _You are Super Max. You can do anything. Whatever you want, you can do it._

Except, apparently, block out the squealing chatter of the girls around me.

I sighed and accepted the reality of it; I was not going to be able to block out those high voices. I opened my eyes and tightened my ponytail, like I always did when I was pissed off and ready to handle overly giggly girls. I leaned forward and wrapped my hands around the heels of my feet and slowly began counting to fifteen.

"Guess what I haaaave," Lissa practically sang. She stretched into a middle split and leaned sideways, wrapping one hand around her left foot.

"What?" at least four girls demanded.

"A new boyfriend." She smiled, and it was feral.

I couldn't resist snorting. When the rest of the circle of cheerleaders turned to look at me, I put an innocent look on my face and switched from stretching my legs to stretching my arms behind my head.

"What's _your_ problem?" Gianna asked menacingly. It was hard to take her seriously with the way she was wagging her head back and forth, making her overly long ponytail sway like it was learning the macarena or something. It was obvious she'd clipped in extensions or something last night, because her ponytail had grown like, five inches since last practice.

"Nothing." I kept an amused smile on my face and switched arms. "I was just thinking about how when her and Fang broke up, she was with Dylan like right away. And now, a month later, she's got a boyfriend." I heard a sharp intake of breath from the people who practically worshipped Lissa. "But carry on."

"Anyway," Lissa continued, narrowing her green eyes but not commenting on my observation. I think she's learned by now not to tangle with me as much. "He's totally cute." She fluffed up her ponytail, which was so high it was practically growing off her forehead.

"What's his name?" demanded a fairly nice girl named Ria. She was nice, but she was friends with Lissa, which was a totally interesting mix.

"Sam," she said adoringly. "He's new. Just started on Monday."

I choked on my own breath and retreated to the bleachers to grab my water bottle and take a sip. Of course, Lissa would close in on the clueless new guy as her new boyfriend. As long as he didn't know how mean she constantly was, he was good in her book.

I clenched my teeth and joined the rest of the cheerleaders as we started practicing basket tosses. My group, which was composed of Carolyn, Tess, and Ria, was waiting for me, milling around aimlessly on the mat while the other flyers spun through the air and landed back within the protection of their spotters.

"Alright, scorpion first?" Ria suggested. I nodded, and she positioned herself behind me. Carolyn and Tess took their positions next to me.

I felt that familiar rush of confidence and excitement as I was lifted high up in the air. I could see every pipe running through the ceiling, just by tilting my head slightly. I could see everything so clearly. It was ten times better outside, because I could really see a lot of buildings and stuff. I would've been happy to just hover there, in midair, but I had a job to do. I lifted my foot slightly and caught my ankle with my hand, and tugged my leg up behind me, until my foot was behind my head, and I could reach it with both hands. I gripped my ankle with both hands, and forced my leg to straighten before dropping the position and allowing myself to swirl through the air and be caught.

Lissa chattered on endlessly about how her and Sam had texted for a _full two hours_ yesterday (yay for the textlationship). Sometimes I thought about signing myself up for yoga to forget about her, but then I realized how full my plate already was and decided against it. (**A/N: Just blanked on the spelling of decided. Nbd...**)

The rest of cheerleading was agonizing, considering we had to learn a new cheer, which meant running it over and over and over so it would be drilled into our brains. It was no small wonder that I practically spazzed out with happiness when I saw two texts from Fang sitting in my inbox afterwards.

_Hi.  
>NO WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING DID YOU DIE?<em>

I couldn't help but laugh when I saw that one, earning me some curious glances from fellow cheerleaders in the locker room.

"What's so damn funny, Max?" Lissa asked, looking down her surgically enhanced nose at me.

I looked blandly at her. "And why do you suddenly care?"

Lissa rolled her eyes. "I care more about my dog's poop than I care about you."

"Good, so shut your trap and go shrivel up in the corner." I tuned her out, texting Fang back with one hand and pulling my ankle to my butt with the other. It was an annoying habit; if I didn't periodically stretch after gymnastics and cheer and stuff, then my body got all sore and seriously annoying. It was like I had to wind my body down, convince it that it was time to rest.

Lissa did not take too kindly for that. "You think you're the best, Max, don't you? Practically begged to be on the cheer team because you're such a good flyer and an oh-so-amazing tumbler," she said with a thick edge of sarcasm.

I yanked my t-shirt on over my tank top and didn't even spare her a glance. "You sound preeeetty jealous right now."

She scoffed at that. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! You think you're so much better than everyone else, and I'm here to tell you that you're not!"

"Can you _please_ notice that everything you're saying is going in one ear and out the other?"

"Can you _please_ notice that you're not as great as you think you are?"

"Hey, can you guys _please_ shut up?" Carolyn snapped. "Lissa, can it. Your head is a bunch bigger than Max's, so you should be working on that instead of pointing your finger at other people."

Half of the team audibly snickered, while the other half burst into loud, over-exaggerated guffaws at the very idea.

"Very likely, Carolyn!" Penelope shouted.

Carolyn stood on the bench. "Shut up, Penelope," she said sweetly, "or I swear, I _will_ tell Ryan about your little meeting with Riley in the janitor's closet during halftime during the football game."

Outraged gasping.

I slammed my locker, hoping to cut off the conversation. There was a tiny silence, and then a bunch of side conversations started up again. I pulled on my jacket and started to walk out of the locker room. Lissa's Ugg shot out in front of my foot at the last second, but I merely skipped over it, too quick for her.

"Try again next time, Lissa dearest," I cooed, throwing open the doors. The air outside smelled really fresh, reminding me just how sweat-scented that locker room got after cheer practice. Ick much?

I walked down the halls, beyond relieved that it was Friday already. I actually indulged in throwing my arms up over my head and twirling around a few times, but I felt so incredibly stupid that I quickly lowered them and picked up the pace again. Thankfully the principal hadn't invested in security cameras yet, so I was good.

_Bhuuuuzzzz_.

I jumped about fifteen feet in the air, but calmed once I realized that the noise was just my phone in my pocket and not the invisible Toby from _Paranormal Activity 3_ about to pop out from the lockers with a chainsaw. Thank God.

I flipped it open and, not surprisingly, found a text from Fang.

_I have a surprise for you :)_

Fang must've been pretty freaking excited about this surprise, because he'd added a smiley face, which he rarely does. I texted back as quickly as I could, extremely curious about my surprise.

_What, did you mail your mom's brownies to my house?_

I was just shutting my phone and opening the door at the same time when I heard a familiar laugh. I whipped my head around in a million directions, shocked. Did I really miss walking out of those doors with him so much that I was hallucinating and imagining his laugh?

No. I must've just unconciously dredged it up in my mind.

I had just reached the curb and was about to step into the road when suddenly someone's hand snared around my wrist and slammed my back into a rock-hard chest. I huffed in surprise, just as a huge silver SUV rushed past the spot I'd been about to walk into.

Stunned, I turned my head backwards, struggling to identify my savior.

"You look really funny with your head like that," Fang said. I could just barely see the top of his black hair.

"OH MY GOD FANG!" I screamed, whirling around and hugging him as tightly as I could. Even though I'd just seen him barely a week ago, I was uncontainably excited.

He chuckled and wound his arms around me. "Didja miss me very much?" he teased.

"Yes," I muttered, my brain not functioning enough for me to come up with any other response. Oh my God, Fang was here! Okay, this surprise was better than brownies.

"What are you doing here?" I finally managed after a full minute of him half-rocking, half-hugging me.

His smile was huge and proud and it was so rare that I automatically broke into a grin of my own. "We had to leave early today, because the electricity went out and no one could see anything in their lockers or in class, and kept bringing the wrong books to class because we couldn't see. They should've just sent us home the second the electricity went out, but it took them until lunchtime to let us go. I convinced my mom to bring me over here, and now, here I am!"

"How'd you know I'd still be at school?" I demanded suspiciously.

"Nudge's been texting Ella nonstop. Ella's given her every single little detail about cheerleading practices and games and cheers and stuff. Nudge is somewhere in the school, no doubt looking for Ella in the locker room."

"How did I not bump into her on my way here?" I wondered aloud.

He shrugged. "Dunno."

I couldn't help the huge smile; it just kept fighting its way back onto my face. "So, is your mom taking you back home now, or are you staying for a little while?"

"Staying for a little while," he confirmed. He trapped my face in between his hands and kissed me sweetly. I totally and utterly and completely melted, because this was probably the first time I'd kissed him since he'd left for whatever town he was in now. My arms hung limply, helplessly at my sides. His hands slid down to take mine, his thumbs rubbing familiar circles on the back of my hands. I just couldn't get over how sweet this kid was.

I pulled back, gasping for air, extremely light-headed. I caught a glimpse of Fang's fleeting, crooked smile.

"My kissing expertise has you completely astonished," he announced victoriously.

"Now, now, don't get modest," I teased.

Of course the doors chose that moment to slam open, so Fang and I jumped apart in surprise as Lissa walked out, an unholy smile on her face.

"Well, well, well, look who's decided to visit." She shot me a venemous glance before looking appreciatively at Fang. "Hey, Fang, welcome back. Are you here permanently?"

"Nope, just here to see Max," he said cheerfully. I almost laughed; he was a natural at bringing out the worst in Lissa by constantly reminding her that we were kinda officially going out, and he'd disposed of her.

"Oh, cool," she responded evenly. "How's your new school, wherever you are?"

"Well, it beats being here in this school with you."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh, please, grow up, Fang."

He mimicked her overly dramatic eye-roll. "Oh, please, stop acting like you're disgusted with me in public even though you send me a billion e-mails when you get home."

I looked first at Fang and then Lissa in amusement. The color of her cheeks now remarkably resembled the shade of her hair.

"I knew there was a reason I didn't like you very much," she hissed, stomping off towards the SUV parked in the gravel lot. An older, nicer-looking version of Lissa was tapping her nails against the wheel, waiting expectantly.

"Lissa, I know that you think I have all the time in the world, but that's really not the case," Older Lissa yelled. "Mom wants her car back by eight, and I promised I'd meet Allie at six." She watched her younger sister in irritation.

"Sorry," Lissa said loudly. She dramatically slammed the door behind her, and the SUV zoomed out of the lot.

Fang and I side-glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

* * *

><p>"I'm so sore," I grumped, flopping sideways onto the couch and plunking my feet down in Fang's lap. "Not that that's a surprise or anything." Ella, Nudge, Fang and I were all gathered in the living room, wolfing down Chinese and pockets of fries our parents had picked up from Burger King.<p>

"Your fault," Fang muttered through a mouthful of fried rice. I shoved his knee with my foot and reached for a container of sweet and sour chicken. I tossed the sauce back into the bag; I'd never been a fan. Only of the chicken.

We all ate in silence for a moment while Ella tried to navigate the new DVD player we'd gotten last week. Ironically enough, she'd ordered _Paranormal Activity_ from Netflix, which, of course, made me crack up, considering my freak-out earlier when I'd heard my phone vibrate. Everyone just kind stared at me awkwardly until I calmed down.

"Are we gonna watch the alternate ending or no?" Ella asked, finally making it to the main menu. We all stared at the simple white letters on the black background.

"I hated the alternate ending," Nudge commented, struggling with her chopsticks. It was totally useless to try to use them when there was a perfectly good fork right next to her.

"Me too," Fang and I agreed at the same time. "I, personally, enjoyed the creepiness of her just randomly walking up to the camera and smiling all freaky in the original ending," I continued.

Ella indignantly turned to face me. "I've never seen it!" she cried. "Don't ruin it!"

I rolled my eyes. "You're not missing much. The first one sucks. You should've gotten 2 or 3. They're better."

"The goal is to not have nightmares, correct?" Nudge pointed out.

"No," I grumbled. "The goal is to have fun and get scared, not worry about what's gonna freak you out later."

"Whatever," Ella insisted. "Just play the movie."

Fang and I sighed heavily, annoyed with their choice of movie. I'd already seen it like a bajillion times, and it wasn't all that scary anymore. Door moves my itself, blah blah blah, all that. So instead Fang and I basically played footsie for about the first fifteen minutes of the movie, until I accidentally kicked Fang in the stomach and we started yelling at each other and Nudge and Ella hissed at us to cut it out.

I eventually fell asleep, but only realized that when Fang shook me awake a while later. I blinked, disoriented, and focused on the screen. Oh. They were almost done; they were on night 20, the night where. . .well, I don't want to ruin it for you, but just know that those effects are pretty awesome.

Once the movie was over, Ella was ramrod straight, eyes wide, staring at the screen in horror. Nudge was only slightly less horrified, and Fang and I were stretching, aching and bored from spending a useless couple of hours in front of the TV.

"Well, who wants to watch 2?" I asked cheerily.

"No way!" Ella croaked hoarsely. "That one was scary enough." She shuddered and shrank away from the screen.

"You're such a wuss!" I complained. "I liked 3 the best. How about you?" I nudged Fang with my foot.

"Same," he said automatically, typing into his phone. I leaned forward as far as I could and tried, unsuccessfully, to snatch it from him. He just pulled it back further everytime I reached for it, apparently having seen that coming.

"Why can't I see?" I demanded, pouting in frustration. I hated when Fang deliberately kept stuff from me. It made me feel so. . .in the dark.

"Because it's nunya business, daaaahhhhling," he teased, eyes glued to the phone.

I folded my arms across my chest. "You _are_ my business," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "Probably."

I lunged for it again. "Then lemme see."

"Nope." He ruffled my hair and poked my stomach. I frowned and rolled off the couch, hitting the floor and getting up to go get some food. I was _starving_.

As I searched the cabinets, I couldn't help but wonder what the heck Fang was hiding from me. It made me feel so weird, not knowing what was going on with him. I couldn't come up with a reason why he'd have something to hide from me. Unless it was like, Lissa or something, and he just wanted to resolve it peacefully without getting me involved or pissed off or something like that. That should be considered thoughtful or something, but mostly I just thought it was annoying. I grabbed a container of homemade sugar cookies with red and green sprinkles for the upcoming holiday and returned to the living room.

Both my friends and my sister pounced on me the second I walked back into the room. I turned my back to him, shouldering him out of the way, and just to make a point, generously opened up the container to Nudge and Ella, who both took cookies and backed away. I plopped onto the armchair with the container, wrapping my arms around it.

"Why don't I get cookies?" he demanded.

Something occured to me and I wanted to laugh at what a comedian I was. "It's nunya business, daaaaahhhhhling," I responded, mimicking what he'd said earlier.

He rolled my eyes. "That was a text message. These are cookies. I want cookies."

"And I want to know who you were texting and why it was so secretive, but we all have things we want but will probably never get." I smirked up at him around a mouthful of cookies.

He sighed. "I can't tell you . . . here." He glanced around, all paranoid, like he thought my living room might be bugged. I noticed his gaze linger on Ella for a second, before he looked away. I tapped my chin and got up, cookies and all, and went into the kitchen.

"Can you tell me here?" I demanded, tapping one foot in irritation. I turned and set the container of cookies on the counter.

Fang let out a big breath and nodded. "Yeah. You just have to . . . _swear_ not to tell your sister."

"I swear."

"No, like, swear on something really important."

"Fang!" I nearly yelled. "Come on!" I realized I sounded like a whiny five-year-old and tried to tone it down a little. "You know that if you tell me not to tell Ella, I won't tell her. Just spill it!"

"Okay," he finally said. "Iggy is, like, practically in love with Ella."

I took a calculated step backwards. "Come again?" I asked hoarsely. It kinda made sense though. The Iggiberish text message about Ella. The strange way Iggy was so silent the second he heard Ella speak up at lunch (that is, when she sat with us, as opposed to her cheerleader friends).

"Iggy likes Ella. He thinks Ella likes him too. That's what got him started on that."

"That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard," I said with a vigorous head-shake.

"Not really," Fang contradicted lightly. "Iggy deserves to have a regular girlfriend, even if he _is_ blind, y'know?"

I rolled my eyes and took a cookie. "I know that." I stepped closer and stood on my tiptoes. He got the message, and lightly kissed me for a split second. I happily skipped into the living room again, satisfied with finally knowing what was up.

It took every ounce of self-control that I possessed not to spill to Ella. Luckily, though, Nudge and Ella were still gushing over how freaked out they were by the movie, so it wasn't like I had to sit there in utter silence, keeping a lid on my secret. Now I just had to find a way to non-obviously get Iggy and Ella together. That would be. . .adorable.

NO! Oh my God, do you hear me? I'm fawning over how cute Iggy and Ella would be together, when clearly that's the worst, girliest thing I can possibly do.

Fang came back into the living room with the cookies, giving me a pointed look. I calmly looked at him, as if to say 'I got this, don't worry about it.'

Well, at least I hoped so.

* * *

><p>I squidged my eyes shut and tightened my arms.<p>

"Max," Fang insisted.

I closed my eyes tighter and tightened my arms even more.

"Getting painful."

I loosened my hold slightly. I hated to hear my own voice, whispering, "nooooo."

Fang wiggled his arms out of my grasp and wrapped them around me. I was instantly more comfortable, more at home. He was just so familiar to me; I was so used to his hugs that it felt like I'd been hugging him all my life.

"Why do you have to leave?" I grumped, pushing my bottom lip out.

I felt Fang's hand absently stroke my hair. "Because I don't live here," he murmured.

"But you can!" I insisted. "I swear, we'll change the attic into your room. Or the office. Like, it's just the computer and a bunch of books. It's totally big enough to be a bedroom."

"Max, I've seen that room. It is absolutely not big enough to be a bedroom."

I thought about it. "Okay, maybe not," I agreed.

"I wish, though," Fang sighed.

"Me too," I muttered. I was suddenly concious of how my cheek was smushed against his shoulder. I felt funny.

His mom honked the horn from the road.

Fang gently loosened my arms and quietly stepped away. "Well, bye, I guess," he said reluctantly.

I nodded. "Bye," I said robotically, wiggling my fingers in a goodbye wave.

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a second longer than they needed to. "Don't tell Ella, don't tell Iggy you know, and whatever you do, _do not_ let Lissa have her way. At anything. At all. Ya hear?" He pulled back to make sure I understood.

I giggled and nodded. "Got it. Now go." I lightly shoved his shoulder, but my heart wasn't in it. He smiled one more time and turned for the door.

When he got into his mom's car, he turned to look at me, standing inside by the screen door. He waved one more time and I smiled back weakly, my heart not really in it.

Once Fang was gone, I felt all awkward and limp and pathetic. God, I totally had to stop this. I just wasn't quite sure what to do yet. I'd be over it by Monday. It was just an immediate after affect of Fang coming and leaving so quickly. I'd get over it. I'd get over it.

And I was right. By Monday I was back to my regular self. Unfortunately, that still meant all of my clubs and activities and homework had to be done in a timely manner.

At the lunch table, the biggest topic of conversation was the play that was starting up in January.

Ella started it when she eagerly set her tray down with a loud clatter. Her soda can tipped and fell but she ignored it. "Guess what? The play is gonna be Hairspray this year. Can you believe that?" She was so excited, she was on the verge of clapping her hands together.

I paused, my apple an inch from my mouth, before setting it back down again. "Ells, you like to sing? How come I didn't know that?"

Ella shrugged indifferently. "No, not really. But they're holding two auditions; auditions for people that want background parts during musical numbers, and people that want main parts." She paused, and I knew what was coming.

"No," I said immediately.

"But you'd be so amazing."

"_No_," I repeated, with more emphasis this time.

"Pleeeease," she begged. "There's no way you wouldn't snag the leading role. You have to do it, Max."

I picked my apple back up again. "I'm not doing that ridiculous play. That's final, too. I'm never, ever going to be in a school production. Or any other production, really. I am not a play person. I _despise_ plays." I bit viciously into the apple.

"I think you'd be pretty good," Tess said with a cheerful smile. "For one, you'd be coordinated, unlike the people they always cast as the leads to do these big dancy numbers."

"I don't enjoy dance that much either," I pointed out.

Carolyn sat up straighter. "Lieeees," she cried. "You go to Yvonne's School of Dance."

"For acro," I insisted.

"You _do_ know that there's a recital and costumes and such at the end of the year, right?" Ella twirled her pasta around her plastic fork, the smallest hint of an amused smile on her face while she watched me process that. When I did, my mouth flopped open.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I assumed it'd be obvious. Y'know, dance studio equals recital. Otherwise we're learning this stuff for no reason."

"I just won't do it," I said defiantly.

Gazzy lead Iggy over to the table. He carefully pulled out his seat and sat down. "What won't you do?"

"The dance recital at the end of the year," I stated flatly.

"What?" Iggy demanded. "Since when do you dance? This is coming as news to me."

"Max is really good at acrobatics, which is technically a type of dance, although a lot of people argue that it's gymnastics," Carolyn said. She saw the confusion on Iggy's face and elaborated. "Max has been doing gymnastics for a long time, so she's flexible enough that her body can easily adapt to new tricks. Gymnastics is for stuff like balance beams, bars, things like that. Not necessarily the stuff that they teach you in an acro class."

"My head hurts," Iggy commented.

"Alright, then let's get back to the play," Ella said eagerly. "I'm going out for one of the background parts. Like, one of the kids on the morning show thing. Whataya think?"

I may despise plays, but I am a very supportive sister, I'll have you know. "I think you'll be great," I said sincerely.

"Ditto to that," Tess said.

Ella's face lit up. "Yay!" she giggled. I saw Iggy's face flush, and my secret bubbled up inside me. I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood. I wasn't sure how long I'd last. From the looks of things, I wouldn't last til the end of the week. I'd just have to wait for Iggy to tell me on his own. I settled for deliberately stepping on his foot. Iggy's expression changed the slightest bit, but went right back to normal.

Later, I had art, and you can probably imagine my surprise when I spotted Sam coming through the door when I was on my way to my seat with a new box of oil pastels. I paused in confusion, fumbling with the box. How does he just randomly show up in this class after a couple days of being here?

Sam seemed to have gotten the hang of dealing with teachers, because he strode right up to our teacher. "Hi, Miss Kenkel?"

She turned around. "Oh, are you Sam?" She smiled cheerfully.

He nodded. "That would be me."

"Well, welcome to art class, Sam," Miss Kenkel said brightly. "What's your favorite color?"

_Don't say black, don't say black, don't say black. . ._

"Green."

I turned to see Miss Kenkel frown. "Oh. I'm sorry, all our green stools are taken. Do you have another favorite color?"

"Yeah, gray," Sam said.

I clenched my fists in agitation, accidentally making crescent-moon nail imprints on the blue oil pastel in my hand. The last kid that had claimed is favorite color was gray ended up sitting in a black stool instead.

"Um, is black okay?" Miss Kenkel was starting to sound nervous. She'd never had to go beyond the second choice before.

Sam smiled easily, and I wondered again how he'd transformed from being bumbling and awkward to being this unbelievably. . .smooth guy.

"Sure, black's fine."

"Then you can take the stool right next to Miss Maximum Ride over there. That's okay, right, Max?" Miss Kenkel smiled cluelessly.

I mustered every shred of control I could and forced a smile. I casually dropped the oil pastel to the table and dusted off my blue-stained hands. "Yep."

"Great." Miss Kenkel smiled enthusiastically, then flitted over to her desk. Probably to find some poster paper and the project sheet for Sam. She tened to be the tiniest bit disorganized, though, so it would probably take a while, leaving Sam and I with too much infilled silence.

He sat down nearly soundlessly next to me. That reminded me of Fang, and made my heart hurt a little. "That's really amazing."

I barely glanced over my shoulder, but made a concious effort to brush my ponytail away from my face. "Thanks," I said evenly.

"I mean, I'd never be able to draw a bird's nest that realistically, with all the pieces of straw and branches and leaves that they randomly come up with. That's one of the best drawings I've ever seen, even if it's not done," he continued. Some people just don't take hints. I just shrugged, and pressed the pastel harder against the paper to get the perfect fading-in-and-out effect that I really wanted.

Thankfully, Miss Kenkel seemed to be on her game today, and soon enough had a project sheet and a piece of paper for Sam to draw on. She explained about how we were focusing on shadows; he was supposed to choose a scene that prominently displayed the ability to draw in shadows.

Sam was supposed to be sketching for the rest of the period, but he remained chatty until my temper flared up.

"Look." I almost ran my hand over my hair in frustration, before realizing that it looked like a rainbow had barfed on my hand. "This is actually a pretty important project. It would be good for both of us to just keep working and not talk, alright?"

Sam was still unfazed. "Sure, Max. By the way, you got some of that pastel stuff on your face."

I sighed in irritation. My hands were a rainbow mess.

"Here." He reached up and wiped something off my cheek with his thumb. I automatically recoiled from the too-close contact. He smiled briefly and went back to concentrating on his sketching.

What would it take to shake this kid, even a little?

* * *

><p><strong>Don't know what my plans are for Sam yet. Expect the unexpected, though.<strong>

**Wanna hear a story? So, I sit next to one of my best friends in science class. Our table is next to two guys. We had to do cow eye dissections (GAG) in groups of two today. Neither me nor my friend wanted to, and both the guys wanted to. So we had to do a switcheroo, and both dissect with them. Only one person in a group of two is allowed to dissect; the other one watches. So, we're sitting there gagging while they're poking around in the eye laughing and going "dude, look what I found!" Couldn't eat lunch after that.  
>One kid poked into the eye with the probe thing and got squirted with cow-eye juice. I have no sympathy.<strong>

**Hey, today I'm gonna stay Up All Night.**

**If you don't get it, don't worry about it.**

**DANCE TEAM TRYOUTS ARE ON APRIL 20TH LIKE ASDFGHJKL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE MY FOUETTES ABSOLUTELY PERFECT BY THAT TIME AND GET A QUADRUPLE PIROUETTE AND _NIALL_ THE FLYING DISC? Idk, you tell me.**

**Once again I apologize for this totally not being long enough and being way overdue. Major apologies.**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	7. I Wonder If I'll Regret That Later

**I suck, I know. You can think it, I'll say it. I'm really, really sorry for the infrequent updates.**

**But once again can I remind you reviews make me update faster...? I love the reviews I'm getting, but I haven't been getting as much as I used to :( I know, you guys like spoiled me and now I'm used to getting a lot of reviews from totally freaking _amazing_ readers.**

**Alright, I was totally going to make this longer. But I'm going to Hershey Park from Friday into Saturday with the music program at my school (_yiipppeee!) _And the luggage drop is on Thursday. Which means I will probably be stuck packing all night tomorrow night, because I take _forever_ to pack. Even if it's just for a couple days. And Thursday, I will non-stop be practicing with Pepe Bernardo Dave (my flute, my friend nicknamed it that). So this is early and kinda short and sucky cause of that.**

**My friends make fun of me because I can't burp (and have never, not once, EVER, burped) and because I have small feet. This makes me sad. :(**

**Disclaimer: Pepe Bernardo Dave wants to own Maximum Ride. He doesn't. Niether do I.**

* * *

><p><strong>Max POV<strong>

Y'know, sometimes I feel more like a twenty-something actress in a movie about someone in high school rather than a fifteen-year-old kid that actually _does_ attend high school.

But that's pretty much completely off topic.

I really hate days when there's a football game after school. Then I have to wear my uniform to school, and the football players wear their uniform jerseys, and they pretty much feel like it's their duty to hit on all the cheerleaders on game days. I always feel like a retarded horse with my hair up in a ponytail that's always way too neat because Ella does it. The Under Armor turtleneck gets pretty annoying and too warm when the classrooms are overly heated. Normally the Under Armor wouldn't be necessary in Florida, but we were having an unusually cold winter.

So yeah, game days suck.

I walked down the hall with Carolyn, feeling like a big old retarded spotlight was trained on me as a twisted the dial to my locker. Carolyn leaned on the wall next to me with a sigh, fidgeting uncomfortably. I glanced at her questioningly out of the corner of my eye.

"What's wrong?" I asked, finally wrestling my locker open.

"I dunno. . ." she muttered, picking at her manicure.

"Just spit it out, Carolyn," I said, getting kinda impatient. I was not one known for being benevolent and cheery when wearing a skirt. "It's really obvious something's on your mind."

"Lissa's talking about you," she blurted. "Non stop. All morning. Apparently she saw you and Fang after school on Friday, but like what are the odds of that, right? She's just being jealous and making things up. So anyway she was talking really bad about you during math and I dunno I wasn't sure if I should tell you and hurt your feelings or just keep it to myself and let it be worse when someone else told you."

I wasn't really sure how to reply to everything, so I started simple. "You didn't hurt my feelings."

"That's good."

"I did see Fang on Friday," I said slowly.

"Really? After practice?" She sounded suspicious.

I closed my locker gently, my mind racing. "Yeah. He surprised me after school cause he got out kinda early."

"Oh. Okay. So did you guys fight or anything?" Carolyn watched my face closely as we started walking again.

"No." I frowned. Then something dawned on me. "Oh, wait, Lissa's making up rumors that we got into a fight and we might break up just to make waves. Am I right?" Carolyn shrugged and nodded as we swerved into math. "Predictable," I muttered as I settled into my seat in the back of the classroom.

Math couldn't hold my attention for very long. As soon as the class was over, Carolyn and I split up; she had computers while I had art. I ambled down the hallway, not in any rush to get to art; I was pretty much done with my project, and we still had three more class periods to complete it. I wasn't in a rush to get there early.

That's when I discovered that Sam seriously _wasn't_ the kinda dorky, quiet, clueless guy he'd been on his first day. He'd turned into one of Lissa's jerky boyfriends.

He was leaning up against a row of lockers with his arm over her shoulders, talking with a couple other jocks and some of Lissa's prissy friends. Every few seconds Lissa would tilt her face up and Sam would kiss her. It was pretty disgusting to watch. Just as I turned to take a quick detour down the nearest hallway, Sam looked up. He saw me, I knew he did. He didn't acknowledge me in any way, but I could tell that he knew I was disappointed in how he'd turned out at this school.

I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. It would take me an extra five minutes to get to art if I went this way, but it would be worth it. I could only imagine what Lissa would say to me if I walked past their group and she saw me, and I really didn't feel like dealing with her.

I did end up getting to art kinda late, but Sam was even later than I was. I finished my project before he even came in, because he was at least ten minutes later than I was. He gave Miss Kenkel a pass (probably forged or something) to excuse him being late because of a "locker jam." When he sat down, I infestimally shifted my stool away from him. Since I was done with my project, I was allowed to free sketch, draw whatever I wanted.

"Hi, Max," he said politely. I tilted my head ever so slightly towards him, nodding curtly. We worked in silence for a few minutes, before he cleared his throat. "So, I didn't know you were on the cheerleading squad."

"Well, I am," I said sharply. I didn't like his tone; it was like he'd assumed I was incapable of making the squad.

"Okay," he said. "Something wrong?"

I set down my pencil, reminding myself to stay completely calm and think about what I was saying before I said something I'd regret. "We _really_ don't have to make small talk, okay? It's totally pointless, because we're not friends. I don't care if there are empty, awkward gaps in what I guess you could call 'conversation'." So much for staying calm.

He seemed surprised. "I'm sorry, did I miss something? Did I do or say something that upset you or offended you in some way?"

I frowned. "I'm not typically friends with two-faced people."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

"You act one way when you're in class, around me, and then you act like a real douche around Lissa and her gang of servants."

"How do I act like a douche?"

I pressed my pencil hard against the paper I was drawing on. "You act like everyone is beneath your notice. You saw me. I _know_ you did. And usually, when you're not around Lissa, you smile or wave or something. But not now. You've completely gotten sucked into the pretty polished popular people." I just shook my head, trying to cool down.

"Max-" Sam started, but I calmly cut him off.

"Please, just don't push it further, okay? I just. . .don't want to be friends. You're okay with that, right?" I didn't expect an answer, so I was surprised when he replied.

"No," he said, acting confused. "I don't want to. . .not be friends." He sounded like he was trying to sum it up in his head.

We both looked at our papers while we talked. "So you want to be friends?" I asked, as confused as he was now.

"Yeah," he said. "Why wouldn't I want to be friends?"

I rolled my eyes. "I think the more important question is why _would_ you want to be friends with me."

"You remind me of my best friend, back home at my old school. You're a lot like her; you're not afraid to speak your mind, you don't care what people think about you, stuff like that. She was fearless." He smiled a little. "So yeah, you're a lot alike."

"Spare me the touching monologue," I snorted, and instantly felt bad. He hadn't said anything bad.

"That's what I mean," he said, barely supressing a smile.

I shook my head and bent closer to my paper, trying to hide a smile of my own.

A few minutes later, maybe ten or so, I don't actually know, Sam spoke again. "So, friends?"

"Maybe," I said and hated that my slight smile was in my voice.

When the bell rang, I didn't look at Sam, I just packed up my stuff. But as soon as I was out of the classroom, he was there, walking beside me to lunch.

"Um," I muttered, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear before remembering the whole ponytail thing. "What are you doing?"

"We're not allowed to walk to lunch together?"

"No, we can." I bit my lip.

"So, I'm coming to the game after school," he said hesitantly, glancing down at me to see my reaction.

I just shrugged. "Okay. That's cool, I guess. But you're coming for Lissa, so whatever."

"I'm coming to see the game. Lissa thinks I'm coming for her."

"Please," I scoffed. "You're coming for Lissa."

He shook his head and smiled softly. He looked like he was about to say something, but I interupted.

"I gotta go," I murmured, glancing over at my table. Gazzy was waving at me like he was preparing to set sail on the Titanic. "I gotta go see what he wants. He never places that much importance on anything, so either the bathroom is out of toilet paper and he wants me to sneak him into the girls' bathroom, or it's something actually important." To my surpise, Sam laughed. I gave him a strange look as I walked away, over to my table.

"What is it this time, Gasser?" I sighed, plopping down in my seat. "Lemme guess: boys' bathroom is out of toilet paper."

"No," he said, then paused. "And if it was, you wouldn't sneak me into the girls' bathroom anyway. You didn't last time."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "That's probably pretty accurate." When he didn't say anything, I motioned impatiently at him. "So, get on with it. What was so urgent?"

"Oh. Nothing, really. It just looked like you were annoyed that Douchey Sam was bothering you, so I decided to help you out. _You're welcome_," he said, looking proud. I wasn't really sure what to say. My friends obviously didn't like Sam, and I wasn't about to make them look down on me for uttering the impossible "he's not really that bad." It made me sound like a wuss, but it was the truth.

High school is turning me into a complete wuss.

* * *

><p>"I saw you."<p>

I turned around and squinted at Lissa. "Huh?"

"I saw you talking to Sam," she said. She seemed calm for once, which was an improvement. "Don't talk to him anymore."

"He was talking to me," I said truthfully, then shrugged. "Tell him not to talk to me. It's not always my fault."

"Whatever." She disdainfully eyed me. "So, how's your lover boy?"

I folded my arms over my chest. I hadn't planned on getting belligerent with her today, but she was seriously asking for it now. "_Fang_," I said, over enunciating his name, "is fine."

"Good to hear." She smirked.

"You know, I can see through you," I blurted. I don't know why I said it, but once I started, I couldn't stop. "You're only mean because you're insecure. And I realize that's the most common thing in the world these days. But seriously. I know for a fact that you hated it when you lost Fang. But God forbid you even consider showing anything other than the act you constantly put on."

Lissa opened her mouth to reply, then closed it and slowly composed her expression. "I'm tired of fighting with you," she said evenly.

"I couldn't agree more," I countered, matching her tone.

Her lips tightened and she carefully held out her hand. "I'm willing to start over if you are."

I stared at her suspiciously. "Okay, what brought this on?"

She sighed. "I'm just tired of fighting with people. I'm tired of turning every corner and having a bunch of people glare at me. I just want high school to be as smooth of a ride as possible. So I want to start over. Starting now."

"Okayyyy. . ." I said, drawing out the word. "Let's start over." I cautiously took her hand and shook it, like I was scared it was gonna explode.

"Good." Lissa's green eyes sparkled. "Thanks, Max, you won't regret this!" She bounded away so merrily that I wondered what kind of medicine she was taking.

I shut my locker and hooked my backpack more firmly over my shoulder, making my way towards the door. I wondered if I'd regret what I'd just done.

* * *

><p><strong>I told you. It completely sucks.<strong>

**Pleeease review. Otherwise I will not have an extraordiHarry, amaZayn, phenomiNiall, brilLiam, fabuLouis, and 1Derful time at Hershey.**

**All those Directioners out there, I feel you, bro.**

**Say bye to the world Pepe Bernardo Dave.**

**Pepe Bernardo Dave: The world can kiss my high G sharp.**

**He's not very sociable. And I've been antisocial for the last week because I only talk to my flute.**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


	8. Rain, Rain, Go Away

**Uber short, sorry bout that.**

**All superior ratings at Hershey and all first *woopwoop*.**

**Who watched Jane By Design? And furthermore, who would be willing to discuss it with me?**

**Okay so I got dragged down the hall the other day by my friend, and my feet just slid because my Uggs were giving me zero resistance and I was like really. I wanted to hit him but he's taller.**

**HEY_ SO LIKE MY FRIEND GOT ME TICKETS TO GO SEE JUSTIN IN CONCERT IN NOVEMBER AHH OMFG THE NEXT FIVE MONTHS ARE GONNA BE LIKE NUTS AHAISDHFAUI_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belongs to James Patterson.**

* * *

><p><strong>Max POV<strong>

This day could _not_ get any better.

The game ended up getting cancelled, because by the time lunch was over, the clouds had turned inside out and poured cold rain all over everything. The rain continued all the way through the day until last period, and that was when they finally called the game off.

Usually, when it rains, students that walk home can hop on a bus for a couple blocks before being let off closer to their house. But today, Iggy had begged me to stay and help him fix his locker jam, so I'd missed it.

"I hate you, by the way," I grumbled to Iggy. We were standing under the overhang of the school. Iggy's mom was supposed to come pick us up, and we'd already been waiting here for ten minutes.

"It'll pass." Iggy shivered.

I stared out at the rain that pounded down on the pavement and heaved a sigh. I wouldn't have minded walking home so much if Fang had been there. . .he would have lightened my mood so much that I would never even notice I was soaked. I missed him for about the millionth time in a week, wishing that by some miracle, he'd be able to come back home, soon.

"Um, Max?" Iggy nudged me with his elbow again to break my trance. "Mind reading that message for me?" He handed me his phone. "The voice readout thing isn't working because I spilled orange juice on it this morning," he admitted sheepishly.

"Okay." I opened the message from his mom and scanned it, my face growing more and more appalled by the second.

"You're quiet. What?" Iggy demanded.

I stuffed the phone back into his hands. "Your mom isn't coming," I huffed. "We have to walk."

"I'm blind!" he cried, panicked.

I sighed heavily. "I mean, I guess I could take a detour and walk you to your house so you know where you're going. . ."

Iggy engulfed me in a giant hug. I gasped like a fish, feeling like he was squeezing all my airways shut. I tried to kick him when I felt my feet rise off the ground, and he released me and put me back down. I couldn't even get mad at him; the hug was much-needed, something that reminded me of Fang.

"Let's go." I grabbed Iggy's hand so he'd have a sense of direction as we plodded through the soaking rain. I would've been able to cover my head with a jacket. . .if winters in Florida were cold enough for heavy jackets on a relatively humid day.

By the time we reached Iggy's house, my hair was soaked and plastered to my face and neck. Iggy waved unseeingly at me once he was in the house, looking guilty. I didn't bother waving back. I was too irritated.

Cars rushed by on the road, obnoxiously splashing through the muddy puddles that had collected along the curbs. Once or twice I got splashed, and swore loudly when it spattered the white Under Armor shirt. I didn't care so much for it when it came to cheerleading, but I used it for other sports too. Oh, and did I mention that it was _white_?

When I was almost two blocks away from my house, I was totally out of patience for the whole "walking to the moon and back" in the rain thing. So I just gave out and sat on the curb, not caring about how wet I was, not caring that water ran in thick streams down my bare legs, not caring that it was dripping down my back, not caring that it stuck my eyelashes together and made it altogether impossible to see.

A car came racing down the street, but slowed once it neared me. My muscles tensed, readying me for a quick getaway if it was needed. The car pulled up next to me and the window rolled down. A blatantly cheerful face stared at me from through the window.

"Need a ride, sweetheart?" I stood up, peering in through the car window in confusion. Once I saw who it was, I backed away and started walking at a maniac pace.

"No," I said frostily, ignoring the squishing in my shoes. _How does he even have a license yet?_

"I dunno, you look a little, um-" His eyes roved over my soaked cheerleading uniform "-wet." His tone was still amused and friendly.

"Dylan, go to hell!" I broke into a tiny jog, feeling my backpack bounce against my shoulders.

He easily kept pace, slowly cruising down the road. "Just tryin' to be friendly."

"If you were sooo friendly, you'd have _friends_," I spat.

He snorted. "Oh, cut that ridiculous crap, Max. It doesn't make you sound edgy or whatever."

"I thought you were _friendly_?"

"I thought you were dating Fang?"

"I am," I hissed. He was crossing into a waaay touchy subject for me here; the whole long-distance relationship.

"Well, better make sure he knows that." He was whistling, all carefree, the douche.

I took a deep breath so I wouldn't strangle him. I stopped walking, and he stopped driving. I slowly approached the window and squinted at him, not caring that my hair was dripping all over his seats. "Explain that."

"Oh, nothing," he said in a faux-innocent tone. "Just that I visit up there a lot; I used to go to school there. Saw him walking around with some girl. Smiling, laughing, y'know." He shrugged.

"He's allowed to be friends with other girls, jackass," I reminded him.

"And he's allowed to kiss other girls too, right?"

My blood was rushing through my veins at a dangerous pace, and it was making me dizzy. "He's not kissing other girls," I insisted obstinately.

"That's not what I saw," he said, his wide turquoise eyes fixed on my face, anxiously awaiting my reaction.

"You're so full of it!" I broke into a full run down the sidewalk. Anywhere to get away from stupid Dylan. He was such a liar. Fang would never ever ever kiss someone while he was still dating me. Ever. I knew him; he was better than that.

My lungs burned and I threw more water up on myself by splashing in puddles, but I tried my best to put it out of my mind until I reached my front porch. I breathed hard and rapped on my door, not in the mood to search my soaked backpack for my keys.

My mom opened the door, looking cautious. "Where are your keys?" she demanded.

"I didn't feel like digging them out of my backpack." I stepped into the foyer and kicked off my soaked shoes and socks. I tossed my backpack to the side, not caring that it rolled into the living room like that huge boulder in _Indiana Jones_, almost knocking over the lamp next to the door.

"Okay. . ." My mom eyed my soaked uniform. "I'll get you a towel. I'd rather you not drip water all over my house." She scurried over to the linen closet and tossed me a towel. "There. Dry off as best as you can before going upstairs."

I halfheartedly mopped off my arms and legs, but gave up and simply wrapped my hair in the flimsy beach towel before walking upstairs. When I reached the top step, my foot slipped on the polished wood, still sorta wet from my socks. I went crashing to the floor at the top of the stairs. My elbow painfully whacked into the railing and my knee cracked down on the wooden floor. Before I could catch myself, my head smashed into the sharp corner of the banister. I scrambled onto the landing, trying to make sure I didn't go tumbling down the stairs while I assessed my injuries.

The ball of my left foot was red, and my shin hurt like hell from crashing into the step. My elbow and knee were both throbbing to the beat of my aching head. Beautiful.

"Max, what was that?" my mom's voice demanded.

"Just me inflicting injuries on myself again," I called calmly. I painfully got to my feet and hobbled into my bedroom, where I collapsed onto my bed with a sigh. I pulled clean sweats and a t-shirt out of my dresser and traded my soaked cheerleading uniform for the clean cotton comfiness. I am such a great alliteration-artist. See what I did there?

"Hey, Max, you have some kind of package waiting for you downstairs." Ella poked her head into my room. "Oh, and why weren't you on the bus home today?"

"I missed it," I said simply, picking at the dead skin that had accumulated on the bottoms of my feet from barefoot acro rehearsals.

"Oh. Well you might wanna go get the package. The return address was Fang's address."

I was up and off the bed, heading down the stairs within two seconds, injuries momentarily forgotten. Just the fact that Fang had sent me something brightened my day considerably.

When I got to the kitchen, there was a relatively flat, rectangular box waiting on the counter. I tore at the tape until I got it open and I was staring at a folded piece of paper on top of an aluminum-foil wrapped tray. I curiously unfolded the note and glanced at it.

_Hello my dearest Maximum Ride._

_Remember how I said I had a surprise for you a little while ago and you asked if it was my mom's brownies? Yeah, well, your wish came true._

_Much love from your dearest Nicolas Thorne._

I eagerly ripped the foil off the top of the aluminum tray and glanced inside. A full tray of caramel/chocolate marble brownies stared back at me.

"Score!" I hollered. They were already conveniently cut into squares, so all I had to do was grab three and hobble back up the stairs (with extreme caution this time). I didn't even know if it was legal or whatever to send food in the mail (or sanitary), but it wasn't like I was complaining. When life hands you brownies. . .don't complain.

I flipped open my laptop with one hand while chowing down with the other. The second I signed on, Fang's video chat request popped up. The boy is nothing if not dependable. Seconds later, the top of Fang's head was onscreen while his head was bent over his phone, typing a text message. I just ripped off another piece of brownie and popped it into my mouth.

Fang raised his head finally. "I see you got my gift." He smirked.

"Yes," I said through a gooey mouthful, so it sounded like "yeff." "Ey are fo ud."

He shook his head, indicating he hadn't understood a single word I'd said.

I swallowed and cleared my throat. "I said, they are soo good." I looked sadly at my now-empty, crumb-stained hands.

He laughed. "Good to hear." His expression changed. It was more elated than I've ever seen it. "I have another surprise."

I rolled onto my stomach and propped my head up on my hands. "Shoot."

Fang was practically glowing. And _glowing_ is a word I'd never, in a million years, consider applying to Fang. But seriously, I had never seen him so excited in the short time that I've known him.

"I'm staying with you during winter break. My family will come down on Christmas Eve and Christmas and New Year's and all that, but other than that I'll be living at your house for a full week."

I looked at him seriously. "Don't lie to me like that time you said you found the entrance to Narnia in the back of your closet."

"I'm dead serious. You can ask your mom."

I raised my eyebrows at him, but he didn't waver, and his wide smile didn't either. I paused while I let that sink in.

"_OH MY GAWD._" I bounced on my bed on my knees, but my recently injured knee protested, so I settled for hugging my laptop with blatant cheerfulness (if that's a word) and screaming _yay_ about a million times.

"I'm coming down on Friday after school," he announced with a grin. "Isn't that awesome?"

I nodded like a crazed bobblehead. I couldn't stop smiling. "I can't believe I get to have you with me down here for a full ten days." I shook my head in amazement. "Oh my God. This is perfect timing. I've been missing you so much lately." I hugged my laptop again, amazed at how perfectly things had worked out.

"Same," Fang said. I heard his mom's voice shouting to him through the computer. He winced. "Oh. Um. Apparently I forgot to turn off the stove. Dinner's in danger. I'll text you later."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

I shut my laptop and thought about it some more. Fang would be living with me for the whole winter break. This could not get any better.

* * *

><p><strong>I realized after I wrote this that I started with almost the same line I ended with. Hehe.<strong>

**Okay so this is probably the best comment I have heard all week. My friend had a baggie of animal crackers at lunch.  
>My friend: Oh my god look!<br>(She showed us a bunch of broken animal cracker limbs and stuff)  
>Everyone: So?<br>My friend: This isn't right omg my animal crackers are cannibals  
>I died lol.<strong>

**Hey REVIEW. PLEASE. SERIOUSLY REVIEW. And thank you to those people who make me smile with their reviews :)**

**PM me if you wanna discuss the ending of Dance Moms Miami, or the premieres of Dance Moms, Jane By Design, and Pretty Little Liars.**

**-dancerxforlifex3**


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